


Wish Upon A Morningstar

by JanusFictions



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angels, Angst, Archangels, BAMF Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Biblical References, Demons, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fallen Angels, Fluff, Heaven, Hell, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot With Porn, Post-Season/Series 04, Powerful Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Spoilers, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-07-31 00:50:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20106436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanusFictions/pseuds/JanusFictions
Summary: Taking place years after Lucifer's return to Hell, Lucifer has finally come to terms with once again having assumed the mantle of the Ruler of Hell when he is met with unfortunate news from Earth. Outraged, Lucifer throws caution to the wind and flies up to Heaven to confront his father, only to find out that not all is as it seems.(If I say much more I'll give away the entire plot.)





	1. Knocking On Heaven's Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little side-project I've been working on since I can't seem to focus my interest on just one fandom at a time. The title of the story is a play on words on a lyric from the song "It Makes No Difference Who We Are" by Celldweller, in case you were interested.
> 
> I've always enjoyed the Lucifer TV show, with maybe the exception of some of the stuff in Season 3. Specifically, the horrendous forced love triangle between Pierce, Chloe, and Lucifer -- although I won't get into it. However perhaps the most infuriating thing about the show I find is how they keep constantly downplaying Lucifer's strength and potential. He's supposed to be an Archangel, damn it, second only to God himself. The fact that regular angels and demons can go toe-to-toe with him really irritates me, so you won't be seeing any of that in this story. 
> 
> Lucifer will slowly regain his Archangel powers over the course of the story. Any other changes I've made to canon, and they are quite a few, will come forward as the story progresses. 
> 
> P.S. I usually don't add most of the tags ahead of time because I don't like to put spoilers before the relevant chapter is even out, yet in this case I decided it'd be best to do it this way as I don't want to waste people's time if they're put off by any of the tags. However, there will be more tags added as it goes, so keep that in mind if you decide to read this story.

_The moment he stepped a foot back in this hellhole, pun intended, he immediately cut a path to his throne room while pushing aside the cowering demons that were unlucky enough to stumble into his path. After traversing the elaborate labyrinth of Hell that he was unfortunately far too acquainted with he found himself crossing the massive obsidian bridge that paved the way over the dim current of lava below and led to his even more massive palace, grand and monumental and carved out of hellstone and adorned with the same black obsidian from the pits of Hell that the bridge was made of. After an overly long walk he stood outside the gates to his palace that hadn’t been shut in eons until he’d up and left what felt like a lifetime ago. The dull gray hellstone gates were enormous, almost as big as a small mountain and were unlikely to budge unless pushed with the weight of one._

_That, or the strength of the Devil, that is._

_He brushed his hand over the intricate carvings that decorated the gates, memorizing the feel of them against the creases of his palm before giving them an easy shove and watching them slowly fly open to make way for its King, revealing the throne room within. **His** throne room. The size of his palace from the outside did not deceive the magnitude of it from the inside. Bleak and dark, the throne room was as colossal as you’d expect – lined with gigantic pillars along both sides that held up the ceiling that rained the inescapable ash found outside. At the end of it were the steps that led to his throne, and he slowly made his way over to them, his limbs stiffening at the sight of it as they subconsciously struggled against him, begging him to turn around, to flee._

_But he couldn’t. _

_Before he knew it he was walking up the steps and standing in front of his throne. It was simple in design, formed out of the same hellstone pillars that littered all of Hell and shaped into the form of a throne, yet the intimidating structure of it spoke volumes of its power. A testament to the power of the Ruler of Hell. Power he never wanted. His hand snaked forward of its own volition to brush against one of the armrests, and he sucked in a sharp breath of air when his palm made contact with the rough stone surface. Almost instantly he felt his resolve waver, everything inside of him screaming for him to flee, to turn from the burden the throne would bring, and for a moment he thought about doing just that until he noticed a stray blonde hair on the sleeve of his jacket and was once again reminded of the reason he was here. _

_Chloe._

_It was enough to banish any doubt of his decision, his doubt turning to determination as he slowly sat himself into the throne and grasped the edge of both armrests with his hands, allowing himself a moment to get used to the feel of it once more until his eyes hardened with purpose. _

_It was time to announce the return of the King. _

_His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened around the armrest, his eyes blazing red as he channeled his power into the throne that was connected to the entirety of his domain, stoking the fires of Hell that had since faded to embers in his absence – once again lighting up all of Hell as only he could. The ground began to shake ever so slightly as his power slowly travelled outwards, the braziers and torches of his palace lighting up in an instant to blaze the same crimson red of hellfire reflected in his eyes before reaching out even further throughout all of Hell. He could see Hell blaze bright again outside his windows in a way it hadn’t since he’d first lit the underworld after his fall eons ago, splashes of magma bursting past the gigantic windows out from the ocean of lava underneath his palace._

_He finally eased off once he was certain that all of Hell had been touched by his power, the tremors eventually subsiding as the fires died down to a more manageable degree -- his eyes turning to their old brown hue. He may have been the Lightbringer, but even for him it could be an eyesore to look at for an extended period of time. And seeing as he’d likely have to stay for all of eternity, he’d like it if he wasn’t constantly surrounded by fire that blazed as bright as the stars he’d created eons ago. But that was enough inner banter dialogue, he was in no mood for it. He was filled with bitter anger, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to unleash it onto the demons that has disobeyed him. He slid his hand along the armrest so that it dangled off the edge before drumming his fingers against it three times in slow succession, his ring rattling loudly enough against it for the sound to echo throughout all of Hell._

_Now all he had to do was wait, and he didn’t have to wait long. The demons understood the call of their summoning, and it didn’t take them long to start flooding in through the main gates in waves, filling up every crevice of his enormous palace until it stood completely full, with demons to spare as they stood lined up at the bridge that led to the gates. It was a rare occasion that he’d summon every demon in Hell, but the situation most definitely called for it. He would make example of those that defied him in front of all those that so much had a lingering thought in their heads to do so as well. The palace stood almost completely silent, with only the crackle of hellfire from the torches and braziers that surrounded them to fill the void of sound. They all looked to him expectantly, the majority of the demons averting their gaze downwards when met with his own eyes, none of them wishing to be the subject of his displeasure. _

_The more braver of his demons either bowed their head in respectful subservience, or foolishly stared back at him in defiance, letting him know precisely who he’d need to make an example of outside the guilty few he’d already intended to make an example of. Slowly he stood up from his throne, allowing the demons opportunity to be filled with trepidation for what he might do as he took two steps forward and swept his gaze over the horde assembled before him. Finally, he spoke, his voice deep and intimidating but still his own. “It’s come to my attention that there are those among you who believe they can disobey my orders without consequence simply because I am not present, and some who even think themselves powerful enough to defy me directly.” He began, allowing his displeasure to seep into the tone of his voice. _

_“A foolish notion, one that they will pay dearly for. Of course there are those that are more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but in the end I blame only myself.” He continued, some of the demons exchanging glances, clearly taken back by his words. “I thought that if not loyalty, perhaps common sense might hinder you from committing such remarkably stupid acts of treason. But I see now that I was wrong to trust that such simple notions might prevail and impede your primitive nature. A mistake that will be rectified shortly. Clearly I thought too highly of you, which in itself is remarkable when I thought myself incapable of thinking any lower of you.” Some of the demons let loose indignant sounds of anger, clearly taking none too kindly to his blatant insults, but he ignored it and continued all the same._

_“You have proved yourself no better than cockroaches, scattering about to feast on whatever crumbs left by your betters – incapable of any deeds greater than blatant acts of greed, jealousy, and base desires for violence. Now that that I have come to this profound realization, you will be treated accordingly. There are those of you that might be innocent, but they will face punishment, nonetheless. You will learn that your pathetic lives are at the whim of my every desire. If you cannot commit this lesson to heart, then you will suffer for it. But first, it is time to punish those truly responsible, so that you may know who is to blame for your own pain.” He paused to draw in a deep breath into his lungs before tilting his head to glare out into the crowd._

_“Dromos. Squee. Come forth and accept your punishment of your own volition, or I will force you, and you shall suffer a fate far worse than what’s already in store for you.” He commanded, leaving no room for kindness in his voice. There was a brief pause of hesitation, but eventually Dromos cut his way through the crowd and to the front to stand at the bottom of the steps to his throne, while Squee was pushed onto his knees beside the former by some of the other demons. He stared at the two of them, looking them over to study their reactions. Dromos stared at him angrily in defiance, as was to be expected, while Squee avoided his gaze and stayed prone on all fours. _

_He slowly walked down the steps to his throne until he stood in front of Squee, his eyes focused on him as he regarded him with disgust. “Get up, you pathetic miscreant.” He ordered impatiently, not willing to give the little insect the time of day. Finally Squee got to his feet, his eyes still boring into the ground so as to avoid his own. The longer Lucifer stared at him the angrier he got, and he found his angelic glamour fading away to reveal the devil beneath it – his eyes once again blazing with hellfire and his face and body morphing to their demonic counterparts as he grew almost two feet taller to tower over everyone around him. Before anyone could react he drove his demonic fist all the way through Squee’s chest, the demon crying out in bloody agony as Lucifer’s arm tore through him. _

_Lucifer slowly raised his arm up to lift the demon up into the air, watching him cough and sputter as he fought desperately for his life. He found he could no longer bear to look at the pitiful creature any longer, and so he joined his hand in Squee’s chest with his other one, thrusting it forward to grip onto the insides of his chest before ripping the demon in half vertically, tearing through muscle and sinew alike until he was just a dismembered carcass. Now that he’d ended Squee’s miserable existence, he haphazardly discarded both halves of his corpse, tossing them left and right respectively to slide along the ground until coming to a stop. Finally he turned his attention to Dromos, twisting his body to slowly walk in front of him, his every step echoing loudly through the halls of his throne room until he came to a stop in front of the demon, his eyes trailing downwards to look down at him with revulsion._

_“As for you,” He began, his voice no longer his own as it adopted a much rougher one that echoed like a thousand demonic voices overlapping over one another, much like it had the night he’d banished the demons to hell. “Your fate will be far worse.” He declared ominously before suddenly twisting the demon around to face the crowd and picking him up in a bear hug. He could feel him writhing in his grasp, trying desperately to slip out from it, but it was of no use. Very, very slowly, he began to tighten his grip around the demon as he started caving in his entire body at an excruciatingly slow pace – his arms closing in to snap and shatter every feeble bone in his body until none remained intact and he dangled helplessly from his grasp. Only then did he release him, allowing the demon to collapse to the ground._

_He slowly circled around his prone body so that Dromos could see him before picking him up by the throat with one hand and lifting him up in the air and twisting so that he stood sideways to the throne, giving all the demons proper view of the demon in his hand. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. Disobey me again, and you shall share in his fate.” He said in the same demonic voice that he spoke in earlier before reaching out with his free hand to rip off Dromos’ limbs, one by one. First his arms, and then his legs, until he was nothing but a torso and head._

_He liked torturing demons. They were so much more durable than humans. Even now Dromos clung to his pathetic existence, and he would continue to do so. He would live, but he’d wish that he hadn’t. ‘Now to put on the finishing touches’, he thought to himself before pinning Dromos against the ground and crouching over him to deliver a bit of poetic irony. He hovered his oversized demonic claws over his head before plunging his thumbs into the demon’s eyes and gouging them out, as had been Dromos’ job in Hell. The demon, of course, yelled out in agony, and he was reminded of another one of Dromos’ traits that he despised. _

_He talked too much._

_He wrapped his arms around the demons jaw and **squeezed**, crushing it in his grasp so that he could no longer speak – only gurgle. “You wanted the Devil. Well you’ve got him.” He hissed out in a whisper to Dromos before standing up straight. With that done, he grabbed Dromos by the back of his neck and lifted him up to face the horde of demons. “If you wish to earn back my trust, then we shall start with this. No one shall destroy him. He will cling to his pitiful existence and join the human souls in an eternity of torture. I leave this task to all of you. Inflict the pain upon him that will be inflicted upon you as recompense for subjecting you to this fate.” At that, he tossed the limbless head and torso of the demon into the crowd of demons before climbing the steps to stand in front of his throne and turn to face them._

_“Now..” He began as he reached up to his chest to rip away the tattered remains of his shirt and suit jacket before staring out menacingly into the crowd. “**KNEEL, AND ONCE AGAIN PLEDGE YOURSELVES TO MY SERVICE, OR JOIN SQUEE IN DEATH!” **He roared out angrily, and like dominos they all fell one by one to their knees in subservience to him. He huffed out a coarse breath in immense satisfaction before speaking again. “Take Dromos and what remains of Squee and remove yourselves from my sight. I will call upon those that aided them in due time to dole out punishment. For now, return to your stations, and think about what you’ve done and the fate that awaits you.” The demons didn’t need to be told twice, a few of them grabbing Dromos and Squee before they all scurried out like rats, leaving him alone in his palace._

_The moment the last demon was out of his sight his devil visage faded away and he once again stood as himself, and he took a moment to himself to recover from his subsiding rage. Once he was more or less certain he wasn’t going to burn down all of Hell, he retreated to his quarters, clothed himself in a suit and spread out his angel wings before flying up to retire to his other throne high up above so that he may survey his domain. Once he’d sat down he fixed his cufflinks and made sure there wasn’t any blood dirtying his hands before staring outwards in determination, sweeping his gaze over all of Hell._

-

Ninety-one years. That’s how long a time had passed since Lucifer’s return to Hell, and he knew better than anyone that nearly a century, while not a long time by immortal standards, when spent in a rotten place like Hell, is a very long time. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed on Earth. He’d refrained from making any visits to ward off temptation. And unfortunately, Hell didn’t exactly have a calendar to refer to. Time was a fickle mistress when coupled with Hell. The standard rule of thumb was that each day on Earth was about a month in Hell, but sometimes the cursed underworld liked to switch things up a bit to keep you on your toes. One of many qualities that he absolutely despised about the place.

Spending eons in Hell wasn’t exactly pleasant to begin with, but after having spent so much time on Earth it was the equivalent of coming off from the best high in your life and suffering massive withdrawal when you realize you’re just a homeless person with a syringe in his arm rolling around in a dumpster that’s been lit on fire while you were too busy daydreaming about not being miserable. But Lucifer was nothing if not adaptable. His stay in Hell had become more bearable over the years compared to how things were to begin with when he first returned. As bearable a place like Hell could be, at least. After his big entrance things had gone rather smoothly once he’d smoked out the rebellious demons and made a most gruesome example of them. Those that remained fell in line rather easily after that, but that didn’t mean he’d had any attention of letting them off easy.

The first ten years of his renewed rule had been spent reestablishing his image as the fearsome Ruler of Hell – the Devil whose wrath you’d best not invoke if you valued your existence. And since most if not all demons cared for nothing **but** their own existence, barring the desire to torture souls, it was a very easy thing to implement. In the pursuit of rebuilding his image he’d made an effort to submerge himself in the necessary mindset. If he was to be there for all eternity, then he might as well come to terms with it. Once he felt he’d adequately immersed himself that way, the real work had begun. He’d been even more ruthless than before – doubling down on even the tiniest of mistakes or slip of the tongue. It didn’t take more than a dubious glance in his direction to set off the fountain of rage that bubbled underneath his stoic demeanor.

Then again it didn’t take much of anything to set him off those days when the sting of his return had still been fresh in his mind. He’d been angry. Scratch that, he’d been **furious**. If it hadn’t been for the treasonous actions of the demons, he never would’ve had to come back down here. He never would have had to leave.. Her. At least that’s what he told himself then. But he knew it was just another grand deception he’d told himself to avoid taking on any and all blame for his own actions. It had taken him some time to accept where the blame truly lied, and as with so many things, it lied with him. He knew leaving Hell would have consequences, it just so happened that at the time he didn’t care what they might be – and if not for Chloe he was sure that level of apathy would’ve stayed its course.

After all, what was the worst thing that could happen to him that hadn’t already happened? Not much was worse than Hell, apart from Heaven, of course -- and when he first decided to stay he’d had nothing to lose. Now he did. By leaving Earth and returning to Hell he’d accepted responsibility for his actions, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been bitter about it for years after he came back to Hell. But as a being almost as old as time itself, he knew that time healed all wounds, so to speak. Lucifer could hold a grudge, as was evident by his constant dismissal of his dad, but in this case he knew there was no bloody point.

It hadn’t been God that made him leave. It hadn’t been demons, it hadn’t been his siblings, and it sure as hell hadn’t been any misguided sense of right and wrong. It was him, and him alone. He’d come to accept that. It had been a hard pill to swallow, but he’d swallowed it all the same. At least the decision had been his. After all, that was what he’d always wanted. The freedom to make his own choices. Free will. And now he had it. It was a bitter victory that did nothing but leave a sour taste in his mouth and a hollow feeling in his chest. But it was what it was. Once he’d finally resigned himself to his fate, managing Hell got a lot easier. He’d immersed himself as the Devil once more, trading out lashing out in anger for a cold, stoic fury waiting to be unleashed should anyone provoke him.

The brutal example he’d made in the first decade of his return had served him well, but he’d had to become something else entirely. Needless violence could only get you so far.

He had their fear. Now he needed their respect.

After all, fear was useless on its own. It was a powerful weapon, yet one that could easily backfire if not managed properly. Too much fear and you may alienate your followers – too little fear and they may believe they can do whatever they please without fear of punishment. A false notion he had to dissuade them of. And that was precisely what he’d set out to do. Loyalty and obedience was met with reward, while defiance and treachery was met with punishment. Such had been the regular routine, day in and day out for the past eighty odd years. Occasionally he’d have to make an extreme example out of particularly defiant demons, but the system had otherwise worked without much problem. The demons feared his wrath and respected his power – just as it should be.

Nowadays the biggest problems he had to face was boredom. For an ancient, immortal being – boredom was possibly the worst thing that could happen to you. He’d made do with what he had, took his pleasure where it could be found, but ultimately boredom always prevailed. It was times like these he wished he had Maze by his side. Throughout his forced stay in Hell, Maze had been the one constant he could rely on. His confidant, his weapon, his friend. He’d briefly thought about asking if she’d be willing to join him, but he knew what the answer would be.

Maze had a life on Earth now. Even if she were willing to join him out of some misplaced sense of obligation, he wasn’t sure he’d let her. He didn’t want her to return here just so that he wouldn’t be lonely. That was selfish, and he was done being selfish. They’d had their fair share of disagreements over the years, but such was to be expected from two immortal beings. Whenever they had a falling out they’d always come back to one another eventually. After all, they had been bound to one another for millennia. Just because he’d released her from her oath of servitude didn’t mean they wouldn’t always be there for one another. They may no longer have been bound by oath, but they were bound by blood. Well, sort of. After all he’d had a hand in her creation, along with Lilith, but he wasn’t her father in the human sense of the word.

He of course also missed Chloe, and above all else he wish he could see her again, but there was no way in hell – pun intended – that he’d ever let her step foot in this horrid place of misery and terror. There was no point in dwelling on it, and so he turned his thoughts to other matters and found them drifting towards the other people he’d left behind on Earth. He missed Linda. She had been a steady presence he could rely on in his life. How she ever put up with him, he wasn’t sure he’d ever know. There was also Ella. She was a bit much, constantly all over the place, but ignoring her previous fondness for the Lord Almighty, he found her to be a breath of fresh air among all the other stuck up police officers in the LAPD.

Then there was the Detective’s little spawn, Beatrice. Try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to feel relieved that he’d never see her again. He may not have appreciated her childlike enthusiasm and penchant for wrinkling his suits in one of her little bear hugs, but he had to admit that he did sometimes miss the little urchin. Not that that’s ever something he’d admit out loud, of course. Then there was Detective Douc—Dan. They didn’t exactly get along. In fact they were at each other’s throat more often than not, yet he didn’t hate the man. Didn’t particularly like him, either – but he respected how much he cared about Chloe. He’d do anything to protect her, just like him, and there were worse things to bond over.

Hell, he even missed Amenadiel. He never would have thought it possible, but the angel had earned his respect and even his love over the years since he came to Earth. It was a far cry from how things used to be between them. He suddenly felt a presence enter his dominion, and he traced the feeling to its source as it descended from above and outside the open gates of his palace. _‘Speak of the Devil’_, he thought amusedly as the subject of his most recent thoughts walked into his throne room. Amenadiel, in all his angelic glory with his wings spread out behind him as he approached the throne with a weird look of melancholy over his face he hadn’t seen since he’d fallen from grace.

Strangely enough, now that he was here in front of him he suddenly didn’t miss him anymore. In fact, he wanted him to leave. He had no place in Hell. He should be with his family, not in this pit of misery. He knew that the real reason for wanting him to leave was that he didn’t want to see him only for him to fly away later. He was a constant reminder of all that he’d never have, and he didn’t want to see him fly away when he could not. “Ah, brother. I’m afraid you must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere; the Silver City is that way.” He said sarcastically in his signature British accent as he pointed directly up, the jest earning a sigh from his brother but not much else. Not even a roll of his eyes, no look of irritation – nothing. Had he gone back to his dull self after Lucifer returned to Hell?

No, that couldn’t be. If that were the case, the old smug superiority of Amenadiel’s former self would’ve reared its ugly head by now. Which begged the question, why was he being such a stick in the mud? He stared at his brother as he came to a stop at the bottom step to his throne, looking him over curiously as he tried to discern the answer to his own question. “We need to talk, Luci.” Amenadiel said almost hesitantly in a coarse tone that made something inside him want to flee. Emotional confrontation had never been his strong suit, and something told him he wasn’t going to like where things were going. “Must we? Shouldn’t you be off chasing your little Nephilim offspring around the house or something? Better catch him before he sprouts wings, if he hasn’t already.” He said dryly with a subtle wave of his hand in a vague gesture as he leaned back in his throne, wishing he had some booze to make the upcoming conversation more bearable.

Lucifer stared at Amenadiel for a while, expecting an answer but ultimately getting none as his brother simply stared at him with a weird glint in his eye he couldn’t quite decipher. “Alright, come on then, out with it. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” He asked impatiently as he let loose an irritated sigh, his anger flaring slightly as he got no response. He quirked a brow at his brother who stood as still as a statue, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to find the words for what he wanted to say, but Lucifer had no patience to wait for him to get over the sudden speech impediment he’d developed so he simply stood up from his seat and dusted himself off.

“Right, well I’ve got things to do. Souls to torture, demons to.. torture. Maybe come back when you have a written speech at the ready.” He said simply, making no attempt to hide his frustration as he made to leave. He wasn’t sure why he was in such a hurry to leave, but something about the situation left a sense of foreboding in him that he’d rather avoid. He didn’t make it so much as two steps before Amenadiel spoke the words that shattered his world.

“Chloe is dead.”

He felt his heart drop in his chest at the words his brother had just blurted out in a panic, his muscles tensing as his whole body stiffened and froze in place as if he’d just been turned to stone. Those three words echoed in his mind as if they were bouncing from one side of his skull to the next, his brain struggling to register them as reality and discern their meaning. It sounded almost foreign, like the words weren’t being spoken in a language he understood. He took a slow step back the way he came, nearly stumbling as if he’d just been hit with a wave that threatened to wash over him and drown him where he stood. He slowly tilted his head to look at his brother, his expression blank as he looked at him, silently urging him to retract the words and put something else in their stead.

But nothing of the sort came. No twisted smile to indicate that he’d been joking, no apology saying he’d spoken the wrong words and that they weren’t true. Nothing. His brother simply stared at him with that same glint in his eye from before that he now realized was sorrow, and pity – the latter stirring a fountain of anger in his stomach that threatened to boil over the little self-control he had left. When his brother realized that he wasn’t going to say anything he clarified on his words. “She and her partner were on a stakeout when they were spotted. CCTV has them running for cover and being shot at. Chloe covered her partner while he ran for their car. When he made it, he took the car and bolted. Chloe didn’t make it. They’re saying she’s in a coma, but her soul’s already left.” He explained slowly and carefully, pausing shortly before continuing, but his next words never reached his ears as he stumbled into his throne and sat there frozen.

Betrayed by her partner. The person that’s supposed to have her back, and he’d left her to die alone.

Everything around him faded from view, his vision narrowing as the world crashed around him and all he could hear was his own breathing and the blood pumping in his ears until finally his vision was devoured by the red of his eyes until all he saw was red. His hand clenched around the edge of his armrest hard enough to shatter the stone, the pieces crumbling through the gaps in between his fingers until his power seethed out unbidden. He couldn’t see what was happening, but he could feel it. He felt his power reach throughout his accursed dominion and unleash the hellfire within it. He could feel the heat envelop him. He could feel the tremors in the ground as his power shook the very core of Hell. He could feel the flames that threatened to engulf his hand in fire. He could feel it all. But more than all of that, he felt rage. Rage as he’d never felt it before. And after a while that was all he could feel.

There was ringing in his ears, but even that faded from his perception. He couldn’t see, and he couldn’t feel. The only thing he was conscious of was his unbridled rage and anger that blazed hotter than the combined intensity of a thousand suns. It was like that for what felt like forever until he was suddenly startled into reality by the feel of hands on his shoulders as he was being shaken out of his trance, and Amenadiel’s visage came into view. His mouth was making words, but he couldn’t hear them at first, until finally he did. “Luci! Stop it!” He heard Amenadiel yell loudly, as if trying to scream over something, and then he realized what he was trying to shout over. He looked around his throne room – or what remained of it.

Parts of the ceiling and the pillars that supported them had collapsed, the walls had partially caved in, and currents of lava flooded through cracks in the ground that was shaking with the force of his power. He looked out the windows to see nothing but lava that was spurting out from below like a reverse waterfall, encompassing the entire palace, his eyes catching wind of parts of the walls that had started to melt and slip in through the cracks. It took him a moment to realize the gravity of their situation and the destruction he was causing, but when he finally did he reluctantly put an end to it. The ground ceased to shake, and the lava began to stream back the way it came.

Amenadiel finally let go of him and stepped back to take a moment to look around at Lucifer’s handiwork before returning his gaze to him with that glint in his eye that he did not care for. Neither of them said anything for the longest of time, Amenadiel simply staring at him sympathetically while he tried to even out his breathing that had gotten increasingly erratic. Oddly enough it had been Lucifer that first spoke, the words slipping out before he realized he’d so much as opened his mouth. “When?” That was the only question on his tongue, and the only word he cared to speak. It may not have left much room for interpretation, but Amenadiel seemed to get his meaning in any case. “A couple of days ago. I came as soon as I felt her soul leave her body.” He replied softly, “I’m sorry, Luci. But there’s nothing we can do.”

He slowly stood up from his throne, his eyes glued forward and only forward. Past Amenadiel, past the gates of Hell, past everything. “That’s where you’re wrong, brother. There is something I can do.” He replied back cryptically; his eyes narrowed in concentration. He knew what he had to do. Before Amenadiel could respond or so much as try and stop him he was already pushing past him and unfurling his white, luminous wings to take flight as they took him upwards. He’d punish her partner and the people responsible for taking her life, but there was somewhere else he needed to be, first.

-

He could feel the Silver City trying to push him away as he flew towards the Gates of Heaven, the powers that be trying desperately to keep him at bay, but the more resistance he was met with, the harder he pushed. Like a meteor being incinerated as it flew through Earth’s atmosphere, he could feel parts of his clothing begin to melt away the more he tried to resist, but he pressed on all the same, roaring at the top of his lungs as the Silver’s City heavenly power wreaked havoc on his body – pain coursing through his every nerve as even his wings abandoned their ethereal glow, leaving otherworldly scorch marks in their stead. He’d endured the heat of some of the brightest blazing stars, but that was a long time ago, and this was far removed from the heat that enveloped him. This was pure divinity, weaponized and unmatched in its destructive capability.

The closer he got, the more it hurt, and when he finally saw the gates to the Silver City just out of reach, his body couldn’t withstand the toll it had taken any longer. His eyes began to flutter closed until finally they were shut completely, and his world faded to black. Even being deprived of consciousness, he could still feel a sort of vague awareness in the dark, as if he’d been reduced to pure sensory and feeling. He could feel himself falling, and falling, and falling – just like he had eons ago. If he’d been conscious he’d have been absolutely terrified, but he wasn’t, and in that moment it felt almost.. peaceful. Like he was floating in an ocean of tranquility, free from the concerns of the universe. He could feel it trying to pull him to its depths, urging him to let go, and in that moment he was almost tempted to do so.

But then almost subconsciously, he could picture Chloe’s face in his mind’s eye, and he remembered what he was fighting for. Suddenly he was flooded with a familiar power he hadn’t felt since his fall, and his eyes shot open to see that he was still falling, his wings no longer dangling limply but now restored to its former glory – glowing ethereally with an intensity only the Lightbringer could muster. With a twist and flap of his wings he rolled and flew upwards once more with renewed determination. He could feel that same resistance from before trying to push him away again, but this time it wasn’t nearly as bad as before. Filled with a new rush of confidence and power, he flapped his wings and shot upwards much faster than before until he was almost at the gates. His vision was engulfed by a blinding light that got brighter the closer he got to his destination until finally he felt himself burst through the metaphysical clouds of Heaven.

Suddenly his momentum was halted, and he could feel himself slowly floating upwards. He slowly opened his eyes to take in his surroundings only to see nothing but white. Not a blinding white, but more of a murky white almost like that of a cloud, although a tad brighter. He moved his head left and right to look for an opening or something of the sort, but there was none to be found. His muscles tightened as he prepared to utilize whatever methods at his disposal to try and break free when suddenly he saw the beautiful blue sky reserved only for the Silver City, and he was reminded how Earth’s sky paled in comparison. But then again, it was hardly fair to compare an actual manifestation of divinity to God’s normal creation. Suddenly his whole head was free, and shortly after he felt his shoulders and torso break free as well, and he looked down to see himself slowly emerging from clouds until the clouds became solid under his feet.

He hadn’t known what to expect, in truth. Having spent almost all of his early life in Heaven, excluding the time he went to Earth and met Eve, he’d only ever really entered Heaven once, and when he had, he’d appeared directly inside the Silver City. He assumed he’d entered through the way human souls came, and after looking around to see a bridge of clouds leading to the Gates of Heaven, he knew his observation to be correct. He moved to take one step forward but instead stumbled forward three steps, nearly tumbling over as he was suddenly overcome with a feeling of exhaustion as the power that had nourished him earlier drained him completely of his strength before fleeing his body to abandon him to his fate. He grunted in irritation before pushing forward despite the difficulty to keep himself standing, his feet almost dragging along the solid clouds beneath him as he strode weakly towards the gates.

He understood now why the entrance he’d taken was only used for dead souls. It had sapped him of all his strength, although he was guessing that his use of power getting here probably played no small part in it. Finally after walking the unnecessarily long length of the bridge he stood just a short ways away from the ‘Pearly Gates’, although they were anything but. Humans tended to be quite fanciful when entering Heaven, looking at everything as if it were the first time they’d ever opened their eyes, when in truth the gates were a rather simplistic design. Before him were golden barred gates no larger than a small house that curved upwards into a somewhat circular shape, the bars that formed the gates arranged to create a fancy pattern that had a somewhat luminous glow to them like the rest of Heaven.

He swept his gaze left and right across the length of the golden fence that only reached a short distance until they reached a gap in the clouds, the drop down into uncertain fate serving as hindrance enough after that. Not that you could even jump around it to begin with because of the forcefield that served as the **real **protection against such a thing. The gates and fence were more of a design choice in that regard. Even if a human were accidentally placed in the wrong realm they’d never get through, not that the protection was intended against them. He looked to the empty podium that stood just off to the side of the gate, and he was reminded of Uriel giving one of his boring speeches that sent a pang of pain through his chest. What he wouldn’t give to see him give one of those speeches now.

Only then did he register the fact that there was no one there to fill the podium, and he briefly wondered whether or not they’d bothered to fill in his position. If they hadn’t, it’d explain a lot. Come to think of it, that would probably be how Eve got out so easily. After all, nobody had ever wanted to leave Heaven before, and if there was no one here to watch the gates then it wouldn’t be hard to slip out if you knew what you were doing. Although, it did seem pretty irresponsible to have no one here to greet the souls that came through here, but who was he to lecture anyone on being responsible? Having gotten a little side tracked by his thoughts, he finally turned his attention to what really drew his interest, and that was what lied beyond the gates.

The Silver City.

Or at least what he could see of it, as it spanned further than even his eye could see from where he was standing. He never thought he’d lay his eyes on it again, and for a long time he hadn’t wanted to, but now that he was standing outside the gates he was hit with some semblance of home sickness. The buildings that formed the city were a beautiful mix of white, silver, and gold – the architecture resembling that of the Romans of old, but far more sophisticated and advanced. Some of the structures reached as far into Heaven’s sky as Earth’s biggest skyscraper, yet even those paled in comparison to the largest and widest structure that rested in the middle of Heaven’s peak, dwarfing all else in its surroundings. While not quite as grand and monumental as his own palace, it certainly made for what it lacked in grandiose flair in size.

If Hell’s palace was as big as a small mountain, then that had to be almost twice its size. He recognized the structure to be the seat of God, doubling as a home to all of Heaven’s angels. God did always like to keep his children close, which was ironic because the last time he was here he seemed very disinterested in actually interacting with any of them. No, he’d just be perched on top of his throne somewhere high above them in seclusion, locked off from the rest of the world while he tinkered with the project of humanity. It’s largely to do with why he rebelled, as God paid him little mind, only speaking with him to give him a command before dismissing him entirely. If he so much as had the audacity to ask why, God would simply blank him or just respond with ‘Because I said so’. The last time God tried that spiel Lucifer had lost it and incited the rebellion that led to his fall.

And yet he was branded the villain, simply because he dared to question his father.

He was suddenly stirred out of his thoughts at the flapping of wings, and he looked down to see an entire regiment of angels surrounding him with angelic weapons at the ready. His eyes darted to each and every one of his siblings, some of them looking at him with disgust, others with fear or anger, and some with nothing but sorrow. He wasn’t sure which look angered him more. “Turn back where you came from, Lucifer.” He heard a voice he recognized say from somewhere behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see a familiar face standing behind the gate with dozens of angels in tow.

Gabriel, his little brother.

For a moment he allowed himself to simply be happy to see his brother again, but that joy left just as quickly as it came, replaced only with bitter sorrow reminiscent of the look on Gabriel’s own face, though his brother hid it well. He hadn’t changed a bit since he last saw him, his shaggy dirty blonde hair still combed back and tamed slick down to the back of his neck, his face clean shaven and his eyes still that emerald green he’d always associated the color with. He hadn’t aged a day, his face free of any wrinkles in a way that betrayed the eons spent frolicking about in Heaven, although that was to be expected as he was after all the youngest of the four Archangels. His age among his brothers was immediately evident by looking at him. If his other Archangel brethren were here you’d easily see where in the Archangel chain he stood.

He finally turned his body to face his younger brother, his feet dragging him towards the gate, and he could see the angels around him tense and close in around him, but he ignored them completely as he stared at Gabriel who looked back at him pleadingly. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Lucifer responded matter-of-factly as he regarded his Archangel sibling, his gaze focused on his face so as to read every little twitch in his features. He’d always been good at reading Gabriel, but then again that wasn’t much of an accomplishment. He wore his heart on his sleeve. His dad always used to say Gabriel’s heart was big enough to beat for all of Heaven, and just by looking at him you’d easily believe it. He cared deeply for all of his family, a trait he admired.

“Please, brother, think about what you’re doing. There’s no need for this to escalate any further. Leave peacefully, and we will not pursue you.” Gabriel implored, forever the heart of reason. “A tempting offer, to be sure, but I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.” He replied with his usual sardonic attitude which as he expected elicited a sigh from his younger brother. “You know you cannot win this conflict.” Gabriel countered, and he smirked back at him in brusque amusement. “Oh, can’t I?” Lucifer challenged with a smirk, knowing full well that he couldn’t. Never mind how weak he was from the journey, without his Archangel powers there was no way he could fight through all of Heaven’s angels by himself, and unless his powers somehow made another surprise appearance that wasn’t an option. He couldn’t use his hellfire powers either now that he was in Heaven, and even with his old power, he wouldn’t be able to get through the gates without a flaming sword.

The longer he thought about it the more obvious it became to him just how stupid his whole ‘plan’ was, but he didn’t care. He’d get Chloe back, or die in the attempt. It seemed Gabriel could see that he wasn’t going to be swayed, undoubtedly recognizing the telltale signs of him not backing down as he immediately forewent any more attempts to dissuade him of his goal and instead sighed before looking behind him and nodding. Lucifer abruptly spun around in time to catch a charging angel by the wrist and hurling him forward into the gate, quickly trapping his arm in between the bars and delivering a well-placed punch to his arm to make him drop his weapon so that it was out of reach before following up with an elbow shot to the side of his head.

The moment his elbow delivered the blow he turned around again and quickly redirected another angel’s blow to collide with one of his siblings, the maneuver becoming a reoccurring theme throughout the rest of the scuffle as he dealt with angel after angel with only the smallest amount of effort on his part – continuously manipulating his opponents attacks to hit the others instead of him with only a small twist. The name of the game was incapacitate, not kill. The rest of the fight became a bit of a blur as the angels crowded him, attacking him in waves with Lucifer occasionally using his superior strength when his movements were restrained by grapples and the like. After rendering more than a dozen angels unconscious they began to wear him down with sheer numbers, a jab there, a hook there and his already feeble strength began to crumble under the barrage of blows he couldn’t avoid until he found himself hunched over on the ground as his siblings rained blow after blow on top of him.

Anytime he tried to stand he was knocked back down, and anytime he blocked a blow he was hit by another from somewhere else. He couldn’t do anything, and it **infuriated** him. His hands clenched into fists as he was slowly filled with the same power from before he knew to be his Archangel power, and before he knew what was happening he’d jumped up to his feet and released a shockwave of celestial energy that sent everyone in the vicinity flying backwards. He looked over his shoulder to see his angelic wings spread out behind him, glowing ethereally as they did during when he held the mantle of Lightbringer but with an even brighter intensity that seemed to blind most of the angels around him as they had to look away to shield their eyes.

He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t, his power seemingly only amplifying to the point where the sharp rays of light began to spin progressively out of control and grow hotter and hotter, setting the clothes of some of the closer angels on fire despite him not intending to. He was **bleeding** power. A power he thought gone after his fall, and if he didn’t stop it, he’d become a one-Archangel Supernova and destroy everyone around him. He tried to will himself to stop, but the more effort he put into trying to stop it, the more powerful it seemed to get. “Lucifer, stop it!” He turned around at the sound of Gabriel’s voice who seemed to be the only one able to withstand the luminosity he was emitting outwards, his hand outstretched to slightly cover his eyes.

“I.. Can’t!” He shouted back with some difficulty, his voice taking on a strange echo as power reverberated through his body. To his surprise, Gabriel stuck an open palm out through the gap in between the bars of the gate. “Take my hand!” Gabriel yelled out, his voice barely audible over the sound of the power he was generating, and Lucifer slowly stepped towards him – his own power that engulfed him making it hard to move but finally he clasped Gabriel’s hand in his and he could feel the light diminishing as the power was dispersed in between them until there was a sharp intake of air and another shockwave that sent both of them flying backwards. His ears were ringing as he slowly got up onto all fours, and he looked around him to see his angelic siblings getting up to their feet and slowly walking towards him, presumably to restrain him when suddenly there was a loud bellowing voice that echoed all around them.

“**ENOUGH!”**

That voice could only belong to one person. Or one entity, rather.

God.

All the angels froze in place, their surroundings taking on an eerie silence as there was a brief pause before the gates slowly swung open to let out a glowing orb of yellow light that slowly took the shape of a silhouette of a person until it formed the human body God adopted as his own. Lucifer slowly got up to his feet and withdrew his wings, standing up straight as God came closer until they stood only a few steps from one another and he could finally make out the details of his appearance properly. The features’ of God’s face and the shape of his head were similar to his own, being his father and all, but that was where the similarities ended. His greying almost white hair was rather long and flowed freely behind and along the sides of his head all the way down to his chin, the lower half of his face framed by a bushy, unkempt beard of the same color. His eyes were a bright, piercing blue that had a subtle glow to them that humans did not possess, and he was clad in a humble flowing white robe with intricate embroidery that clothed his entire body.

In his examination of his father he’d almost failed to notice the person beside him, and he slowly panned his gaze to correct his momentary oversight. The person staring back at him was a reflection of his own visage, with only some slight alterations, and he immediately knew who it was. His twin brother, Michael. It was hard to mistake him for anyone else. The Archangel looked almost exactly like him, only his eyes were blue instead of brown, and he’d groomed himself a bit differently. His slicked black hair was a tad longer, and his face didn’t have the same stubble he had but was instead clean shaven. Then of course there was the most important difference, which was that Lucifer was a lot better dressed. He’d always said he had the fashion sense in the family.

He didn’t have time to regard his twin brother much longer as his attention was drawn by the sound of God’s voice calling his name. “Samael.” His father called in a deep voice with a low rumble, and he turned to look back at him with barely disguised anger. “Close, but no cigar. Good guess, though. We do share a lot of similarities, easy mistake to make.” He quipped back, allowing the venom to seep into his voice, yet the passive aggressive jest earned only a tired sigh from his father. Apparently Lucifer also had the sense of humor in the family as well. Suddenly, something struck him as weird. There was something off about him. The way he held himself was different, and he no longer emanated that unwavering authoritarian aura. And perhaps the most telltale sign, was that he looked absolutely exhausted, and it finally clicked in his head.

When he finally realized what it was about him that had changed he narrowed his gaze onto him as he looked him up and down like a predator sizing up its prey. “You’re weak.” Lucifer said with a mixture of awe and excitement in his voice as he stepped closer to him, his eyes blazing red and Michael immediately stepped forward to intercept him, but God waved him off along with all the other angels around them. “Come, Samael. We have a lot to discuss.” He said simply as he turned around, opting to ignore his earlier observation as he walked back through the Pearly Gates with a slow stride, obviously waiting on Lucifer to fall in line beside him like a well-behaved puppy.

While he was tempted to ignore his request that sounded just a **tad** too much like a command for his liking and destroying him while he had his back turned, a part of him was interested to hear what he had to say – and with the added incentive of a host of angels surrounding him and the currently unreliable state of his powers, he instead decided to follow him, quickly catching up to walk alongside him. He looked over at Gabriel who was standing off to the side and let out a quiet exhale in relief that he was alright before directing his attention to the walk ahead. He briefly wondered whether they were going to keep up this agonizingly slow pace all the way when he blinked and suddenly found himself standing inside what he knew to be God’s chambers, or rather the part of his chamber that served as his study, to be more precise.

“Leave us.” God commanded, and he looked over at Michael to see him nod, only sparing a glance in Lucifer’s direction before walking out. Lucifer turned back and followed God to a desk at the far end of the study, watching his dad with intense interest as he walked around the desk and slumped back into a chair. Slumped. Not sat down slowly, slumped. Lucifer stared at him as God drew a deep breath before looking back at him. “Please, have a seat.” He said almost kindly if not for the impatient tone he spoke in. “Why?” He asked simply, yet harshly and his dad sighed, undoubtedly annoyed by his stubbornness. “As I said, we have a lot to discuss.” He replied; his tone exasperated and low. “Since when do **you** bother to discuss anything? What could you possibly want to talk about?” He questioned with no small amount of indignant anger in his voice, not at all expecting what he said next.

“I need your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's that. Do tell me what you think, and let me know if you'd be interested in more. I'm juggling a couple of stories at the same time, so I can't say when I'll have the time to make a new chapter.


	2. Resolution & Retribution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say: Wow. 
> 
> I was absolutely blown away by the support and enthusiasm this story got, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. At first I got carried away with it, and it turned out a lot longer than I expected it to be. It came down to almost 28 pages and 14323 words, even longer than the last one which I already thought was very long. 
> 
> Afterwards I just had trouble finding the time to continue writing. Only just today did I realize that it had been more than a month since I uploaded the first chapter and decided it was about time I sat down and finished it. Just FYI, I haven't proof read some of this, so there might be some mistakes.
> 
> Anyway, here it is -- chapter two. I hope it lives up to your guys' expectations.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” He asked with visible confusion, thinking he must have misheard. There was no way he’d just said what he thought he said. “You heard what I said, Samael, I’m not saying it again.” God replied in earnest; frustration evident in his voice yet Lucifer had no intention of letting him go that easily. “You need **my **help?” He repeated, his voice a mixture of disbelief and unbridled amusement as a hint of a smile began to spread across his face. “Yes.” God answered very casually, as if what they were talking about was something as simple as him confirming that two-plus-two was in fact four, and not God himself admitting that he needed his help. His smile rapidly began to grow into a wide grin that threatened to devour his entire face and freeze permanently in place as he continued on with his questioning.

“You?” He asked pointedly.

“Yes, me.” His father confirmed with a nod.

“God.”

“Yes.”

“Creator of the universe.”

“Yes.”

“The most powerful being in existence.”

“Mhm.”

“Need my help.”

“That’s right.”

That was a brief pause before Lucifer burst out in a fit of laughter, unable to contain his giddiness and immense satisfaction from hearing those words leave his father’s mouth. “Alright, get it out of your system.” God said tiredly, sighing as he leaned back into his chair to make himself more comfortable for what his father most likely suspected would undoubtedly be a long outburst. Not being one to disappoint, Lucifer continued to laugh non-stop for a good minute and a half, bunched over clutching his stomach and just barely keeping to his feet as he leaned up against his father’s desk. It was all he could do to stop himself from doubling over and falling to the ground crying from laughter. For a brief moment it almost seemed like he was done as he opened his mouth to speak, only for him to utter out a deceptive ‘You..’ before trailing off into part two of what Lucifer would later coin ‘the biggest outburst he’d ever had since lighting the fires of hell’ and continuing to laugh for another minute and a half.

Finally having recovered from his endless frenzy of laughter, Lucifer stood up straight and wiped a tear from his eye before speaking his first sentence since he’d begun laughing. “Hold on, let me pinch myself, this has to be a dream.” He said incredulously, still half-laughing, his tone soft from the hysterical situation he’d found himself in. In true Lucifer fashion he made a show of pinching himself in the arm through the tattered sleeve of his jacket just for extra effect. “Think this is funny, do you?” God asked, who for some strange reason he couldn’t fathom didn’t seem amused at all, and instead of laughing opted to lean the side of his head into the palm of his hand, his arm propped up on the armrest of his chair as he stared daggers at his son. “Funny? No, no, of course not. Funny doesn’t do it justice. This is positively hilarious!” He replied, the venom in his voice betraying the supposed humor of the situation.

“I’m going to have to write a song about this.” He continued, not letting his father get a word in. “What do you reckon I should call it? I’m thinking something along the lines of ‘God’s Insane Plea’, or ‘The Grandest Joke of All Time’.” He said as he looked off into the distance in a mocking display of thoughtfulness before turning back to look at his father whose ever growing irritation was becoming increasingly evident on the features of his face. “I’d ask if you’d be willing to co-write it, seeing as you’ve suddenly developed a sense of humor, but then again you’d probably just keep throwing away the lyrics.” He concluded, the carefree tone of his voice suddenly fading as his eyes darkened with barely suppressed rage. “After all, that’s what you do, isn’t it?” He stated more than asked as he took slow steps towards the desk. “Whenever something doesn’t meet your standards, whenever something displeases you, you just bundle it up and throw it away like a failed draft of some book.”

Oddly enough, his father’s look of anger suddenly turned to one of sorrow that made his blood boil almost to the point of no return. “Samael..” God said softly, and if his look of pity wasn’t enough to set him off, the uttering of his past name definitely was as he immediately threw himself forward, his eyes blazing red as he tossed the desk aside with one hand as if it weighed nothing before advancing on God and stopping just short of where he sat. **“THAT IS NOT MY NAME!” **He roared out at the top of his lungs as he hovered over him, his angelic façade being shed to reveal the devilish, grotesque form underneath as the room around them seemed to darken as if he were sucking the light out of the Heavens.

Even as he towered over him in that form, his demeanor promising nothing but violence and destruction upon him, God did not even flinch. There was no sign of fear, anger, or revulsion to be found on his face or in his eyes. Instead there was only bitter melancholy, and regret. **“LOOK AT ME!” **He bellowed out in the rough tone of the Devil that echoed the thousand demonic voices of Hell, his red eyes blazing with enough hellfire to incinerate a human being with his gaze alone as he gazed down at his father, not pausing his angry tirade to so much as breath. “**DOES THIS LOOK LIKE THE SAMAEL YOU REMEMBER?! DO I LOOK LIKE AN ANGEL TO YOU?!” **

“I’m sorry.”

That, he had not been expecting. His angelic glamour returned once more; his mouth partially agape in surprise as he took a couple steps back, the light once again flooding the room. “What did you say?” He asked incredulously with his regular voice as he stared at him in shock, his father slowly getting up from his chair to stand up before looking him directly in his now familiar brown eyes. “I’m sorry.” God repeated, the tone of his voice soft and sincere, yet it did very little to stem the tide of anger that seethed out from him unchecked. “You’re sorry? You cast me out of Heaven, condemn me for all eternity, brand me the villain of all mankind, and you’re sorry?” He uttered angrily in disbelief of what he’d just heard, his self-control teetering on the brink as he just barely kept himself from lashing out at him. “Do you want to know why I rebelled against you?” He asked rhetorically as he stepped a bit closer. “All my life all I wanted to do was please you, to make you proud.” He began, the room again beginning to darken around them.

“You said create the stars, and so I did. You said create the human soul, and so I did. Anything you asked me of me, I did it, and where were you for all of it? Off on a cloud somewhere, resting in your cradle of power as you manipulated us like puppets on a string. I was so concerned about disappointing you, so worried about being a worthy son to you, that I never stopped to think to myself why you never paid me the same consideration. Why did you never stop and think if **you **were a good enough father? Why weren’t you worried about disappointing me? That’s when I realized the truth. Me, my siblings – we’re nothing but tools to you. Something to be used and discarded once finished serving its purpose.”

“That’s not true.” God cut in; his voice agitated at his accusation, yet he interrupted him before he could say more. “Isn’t it?!” He yelled back, his eyes flashing red for a moment before he continued. “All I wanted was for you to be a father to us, to allow us the free will you so selfishly bestowed only upon humans, and what did you do? You rejected me. Vilified me, made me the scapegoat for all of humanity’s sins, the very personification of evil – all because I dared to question you. And if that wasn’t enough, you let me stew in that pit of misery for eons without so much as a word. And then after everything you’ve done, after I literally have to fly through Heaven’s defenses just to get here, you have the audacity to ask me for my help? You are a vain, manipulative tyrant – a mockery of all the things you claim to hold dear, and I will never help you. So screw your half-arsed apology, and with all due disrespect, go to Hell. ”

He drew in a deep breath as he finally finished his rant, his eyes still boring into his father who sat there staring back at him in silence with a look on his face he couldn’t quite decipher, and he didn’t care enough to try. He’d finally vented the rage that had built up over the eons onto the person responsible for it, and damn it felt good. He waited for something to happen, anything. For God to snap his fingers and obliterate him where he stood, to be punished – but nothing of the sort came. God just continued to stare back at him with a weird glint in his eye that he couldn’t place, and he wasn’t about to stand there and wait for him to change his mind. His father may be weakened, but so was he, and he’d just given him plenty reason to finish the deed he’d wanted to do eons ago, so it was about time for him to skidaddle the fuck out of there.

He slowly took a couple steps back, his eyes never leaving his father for a moment. “Now if you’d excuse me, I’m going to get Chloe and take her back to where she belongs, and you can’t stop me.” He stated in a challenge, giving his father a window of opportunity to test the truth of his words before turning around and walking away when nothing happened. “The day you were born, Heaven had never shined so brightly.” He was stopped in his tracks by his father’s voice, refusing to turn and face him even at the sound of approaching footsteps as he reluctantly decided to listen to what he had to say against everything inside him telling him not to.

“Right then, I knew you were special. That day I promised myself I’d do right by you, to bring you the same joy you brought me when you came into this world, but instead I ended up wronging you in ways I never could have imagined. I may have written the book on parenting, but I knew nothing on the subject. I thought parenting meant giving your children a purpose, a reason for being, but I was wrong. You showed me that. My son the Morningstar, so willful and defiant, showing me concepts I never even knew existed.” God continued; his tone oddly nostalgic until he suddenly paused for a moment as Lucifer heard him draw in a deep breath.

“Like free will.“

At that he finally turned around to look at his father who had walked over to where he was and stood just a short ways away from him, the ethereal blue of God’s eyes staring back at him with that same glint in his eye he finally realized was something akin to fondness. A thing he’d rarely seen directed onto him, even less so by his father. “That’s when I decided to create humanity, to test the theory in practice, and I hoped one day to give you that which you so desired.“ God explained, and Lucifer’s eyes widened slightly at the implication for his words which his father appeared to notice as he nodded. “I created humanity for you, son.” His father confirmed what he only now realized to be his worst fear, and Lucifer felt as if he’d just been struck in the gut as he was suddenly short of breath as his chest seemed to constrict.

His father wasn’t one to lie, a trait they shared, so that meant whatever he said was the indisputable truth – and the ramifications of what he’d just been told were colossal. It meant that the rebellion, the reason for his exile and eons worth of suffering – it was all pointless. He didn’t have time to recover or process what he’d just been told as his father carried on with his speech. “I was supposed to love all of Creation equally. I wasn’t supposed to have favorites. But you, you were mine. So when you first rebelled, I was furious. My most cherished son leading a rebellion against me -- I felt betrayed. And so whether it was in a moment of anger or weakness, I punished you, and I’ve regretted it ever since. But by then, it was too late. Your resentment for me grew with every passing day, and as time went on I didn’t know how to apologize.”

“I know that I’m about a few billion years too late, believe me, I know. I know that no words, no apology will ever even begin to make up for the pain that I have caused you, but for what little that it is worth, I am truly sorry.” God said sorrowfully, and Lucifer felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders as his father spoke the apology he’d waited his whole life to hear. “I never meant for any of this to happen. I never meant to hurt you. But something’s coming. I’m not sure what, but it’s coming, and I can’t keep it back much longer. I need your help. I need my son. I need the Lightbringer.” His father finished, and only when he suddenly felt something wet on his cheek did he realize he’d been crying.

A deafening silence reigned supreme throughout the room for, the only noise that could be heard being the sound of his shallow breathing and quiet sobbing as God looked at him apologetically. “You’re right.” He spoke finally, his voice weak and trembling as he breathed deeply in through his nose. “It is too late.” God sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat and his head dropping down to look at the floor. His father gave a barely perceptible nod, and for a moment he thought he could see a translucent glimmering tear trickle down from God’s eye, but it was gone the moment he blinked, and so he chalked it up to a trick of the light – something that had returned as the room once against shined brightly with Heaven’s divine glow.

“I understand.” God said finally as he looked back up at him. “I don’t expect that I’ll ever be able to mend the bridges between us, but I hope this’ll begin to make things right.” God said as walked closer and held out an open palm in front of him facing the ceiling, and Lucifer looked down to see a divine glow of yellow light emanate from his hand until what he could only describe to be a semi-transparent padlock with symbols he’d never seen before ‘carved’ into it appeared in his hand. “What is this?” He asked as he eyed the object in his father’s hand warily. “It’s a copy of the lock I installed on the gates of Heaven after Eve escaped so that no soul could escape again.” God explained, and he nodded slowly as he registered the information he’d just been given although failing to see the reason for giving it to him.

“With some added modifications to make up for beings that don’t possess souls. Such as, say, demons.” God clarified, and Lucifer’s eyes widened in shock as realization washed over him and he looked up at his father in disbelief. “You mean..” He began to say, trailing off as he tried to squash the hope that had begun to well up within him, not wanting to be disappointed when his father inevitably pulled the rug out from under him any moment now. “Go back to Earth, son. Go where your heart is. You’re still the Ruler of Hell, but so long as you visit it every now and then to make sure everything is in order you are free to do as you please.” His father confirmed, and he had to stop himself from letting his jaw drop slack in shock, his eyes flickering in between the object in God’s hand and God himself.

“Why? Why would you do this for me?” He asked almost accusingly as his eyes narrowed onto God in suspicion, finding the entire thing very hard to believe. “Because you deserve it.” His father replied simply. “And because you don’t deserve to suffer any longer for my mistakes.” Lucifer slowly reached his hand out for the padlock, his fingers lightly enveloping the edges of it to make sure it wasn’t just some trap to smite him the moment he touched it before he quickly snatched it up once he was reassured that wasn’t the case. “What’s the catch?” He questioned, still suspicious at the sudden act of generosity, yet God simply shook his head. “No catch. Demons were never meant to be able to exit through the gates anyway. It was a design flaw on my part. Just consider it my way of remedying that mistake.”

Lucifer nodded slowly, somewhat satisfied with his answer for the time being as he tucked the padlock into the insides of his jacket. “Why now? I’ve been back in Hell for almost a century. Would’ve been nice if you could have had this change of heart just a tad sooner.” He asked curiously with no little amount of accusation in his voice. “I had to be sure that your decision to return to Hell wasn’t just a fluke. We both know you have a tendency to make rash decisions. I had to make sure this wasn’t one of them. And I’m glad to see that it wasn’t. You took responsibility for your actions to protect those you loved, even if it meant being miserable for eternity in a place you despised. I can’t think of anything more worthy of admiration. I’m proud of you.” God replied, and Lucifer gulped down some saliva as he desperately tried to stifle the whirlwind of feelings stirring within him.

“This doesn’t change anything between us.” He replied, his voice steadier than before as he got a better grip on his emotions, to which God simply nodded. “I know.” God responded knowingly. “But hopefully it’ll bring you happiness.” Lucifer breathed in deeply through his nose as he straightened his posture that had gone slack earlier from the emotional rollercoaster he’d found himself on and gave his father a firm nod. “You’ll let me take Chloe’s soul back to her body?” He stated more than asked, having every intention of doing so no matter his father’s answer. “I don’t like upsetting the balance of life and death, but in this case I’m willing to make an exception.” God said with a nod as he himself stood up straighter and put on his authoritarian mask, and he was reminded of the God he knew before he was in the weakened state he was now.

“You wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t let her die.” He replied angrily. He’d gone back to Hell to keep Chloe and those he cared about safe, and she’d ended up dying anyway. A part of him knew it wasn’t his dad’s fault, but it was hard to break the habit of projecting blame onto him as he’d done for billions of years. "You know I have no control over what they do down there. I do not meddle in human affairs; I leave them to their own devices. Free will, just as you always wanted." God retorted, and before he could stop himself his next words had already slipped out unbidden from his mouth. "Right, because you've always been a chief conveyor of all the things I want." He hissed out as a remnant of his weakened resentment lashed out instinctively before he could rein it in, and he quickly took a deep breath to calm himself down.

That was something he’d have to learn to hold back considering what he now knew, yet disposing of a tendency that had become integral to him for eons was no easy task to accomplish. God sighed, and Lucifer briefly considered apologizing for his outburst before thinking better of it and instead opting to ask the question that was at the foremost of his mind. “Where is she?” The moment the words left his mouth he heard a door opening somewhere to his left, followed by a mellow voice he never thought he’d hear again that filled him with joy and trepidation. “Lucifer..?” He slowly turned to look towards the source of the sound, and his breath hitched in his throat at the absolutely breathtaking sight of the woman he loved. “Detective..” He uttered out quietly in awe. There she stood; even more beautiful than the day he’d last seen her. She had a divine glow about her that he knew to be the brilliant bloom of her soul, no longer hidden beneath the surface of her earthly body.

She truly was Heaven-sent.

The way her face lit up at the uttering of her endearing nickname was enough to banish any negative feeling he might have been feeling as she rushed towards him with tears of joy in her eyes. “Lucifer!” He nearly stumbled back a couple steps as she jumped into his arms and engulfed him in a desperate hug, his arms wrapping around her and giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Chloe..” He whispered softly into her ear as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to simply enjoy the moment while it lasted as she sobbed into his shoulder. Their embrace felt like it lasted forever, yet even then it didn’t feel long enough as she finally pulled back, and he opened his eyes to see her staring at him searchingly while her hands loosened around his neck to slide down and place an open palm on either side of his face. He’d forgotten just how beautiful her eyes were. He could see the inner most of her soul in their depths, and for a moment he could’ve sworn he saw the thousands of stars he’d made reflected in her bottomless blue eyes.

“How are you here..?” She muttered quietly in a question, and only the sound of her angelic voice was enough to draw him out of her wet, gleaming eyes long enough to process the question. “Are you dead?” She inquired further, and he shook his head as he pulled her close with one hand on her waist and the other on her cheek. “No. I came for you.” He replied softly as his thumb brushed gently against her cheek in repeated swipes, and Chloe let out a choked sob before abruptly closing the distance between them and pressing her lips against his in a passionate kiss that he eagerly returned in kind – his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself in the kiss that he’d waited almost a century to have again. They continued like that for a long moment, intertwined in one another’s arms until they reluctantly parted, although their arms never left one another.

“This is real, isn’t it..?” Chloe muttered in disbelief, echoing the words he’d spoken to her what felt like a lifetime time ago, and he responded with a smile and a nod as he leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers as he reveled in her soft touch. He heard someone clear his throat, and he shifted his head to the side to look to over where God stood with a balled-up fist in front of his mouth. In all honesty Lucifer had forgotten he was there altogether, meanwhile Chloe seemed to only just notice him just then as she pulled back from him just a tad to turn and look over at his father. “I hate to interrupt but I’d like to have final words with my son before he departs.” God said diplomatically, and he half-expected to see Chloe gape in awe at the fact that his dad was right there with them, but she was oddly stoic apart from a glare of blatant hatred in God’s direction. Evidently, they’d spoken already. He’d have to remember to ask her about that.

Chloe’s glare disappeared just as quickly as it came as she suddenly seemed to register his dad’s words, and she swiftly turned to look at him with a panic-stricken expression. “You’re leaving?” She asked, the trepidation evident in the tone of her voice, and he was quick to place his hand on her cheek and quell her fears. “No. **We** are. I’m taking you back. You have a daughter that needs you.” He explained comfortingly as he again stroked her cheek with his thumb. It seemed to have the intended effect as the tenseness in her body seemed to dissipate and her shoulders went slack in what he knew to be relief. “Just go through there and wait for me, I’ll be but a moment.” He said calmly as he gestured to a door at the far end of the study, and she nodded slowly at his words as she gave his hand one last squeeze before hesitantly making her way over to said door. The moment she passed through he turned to look back at his dad who gave him a knowing look and had a bright smile plastered over his face that he was tempted to remove with a solid punch to his face, yet he reluctantly decided not to.

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t going to give him a piece of his mind.

“Yes, yes, bravo, congratulations – you won. I love Chloe, are you happy now? Your master plan succeeded.” He said disgruntled as he rolled his eyes at his father’s expression. The jab at his dad seemed to have the opposite of the intended effect as God’s smile simply widened as he shook his head. “That was never my intention, son. While it’s true I did put her in your path, I never forced either of you to have these feelings, despite what you’ve been led to believe.” God explained calmly, and Lucifer stared back at him unconvinced. “Yet you knew that we would.” He countered accusingly, and again God shook his head in denial. “I hoped, but I never knew. Everything you two feel for each other is genuine. It wasn’t fabricated, this I promise you.”

Lucifer took another deep breath to steady himself. He’d come to that conclusion himself a long time ago, but it felt good to hear his dad confirm it. “I hope that brings you some peace of mind.” God finished, and he nodded slowly. It did indeed, not that he was about to thank him. The wound was still too raw. “Was that what you wanted to talk about?” He asked, quickly moving onto another topic as he was eager to wrap it up and go join Chloe. God nodded, and he immediately made to leave. “One more thing.” He sighed at his dad’s voice and slowly turned to face him again as he grew increasingly impatient. “About Chloe, there’s something you should know.” That caught his attention, and he quirked an inquisitive brow as he looked at his father, silently urging him to continue which he did as he stepped closer and launched into his explanation.

“When she died, her soul was pulled towards Hell.” God said slowly, clearly trying to break the news to him as softly as possible, yet it was too late as he immediately felt his anger flare and he strode towards his father. “How **dare **you lie about something like that?” He growled angrily, his eyes flashing red. The Detective was pure, a beacon of everything divine. For him to say she’d been going to Hell absolutely infuriated him. He just barely stopped himself as he stood just a step away from his dad, his fists clenched by his sides. “You and I both know that I don’t lie. She was going to Hell – I pulled her up before it happened.” His father responded calmly, and Lucifer’s eyes slowly returned to their original hue, although the tension refused to leave his body, his muscles begging him to punch something.

“Why would she.. Why?” He asked slowly, desperately wanting to punch himself for even entertaining the ridiculous notion of what his father was saying. “Guilt.” God replied simply, and Lucifer narrowed his eyes at him as he eased up a bit. He knew that even the most pure individuals could be turned from Heaven over any guilt they might feel for their actions, which gave his father’s claim some legitimacy. “Guilt over what?” He questioned as he took a step back and straightened up his posture, his fists unclenching to rest idly by his sides. “That’s something for the two of you to discuss.” His father responded, and Lucifer slowly nodded as he reluctantly let up. “I just thought you should know.” God finished, and he again nodded as he took another step back. He spared his father one last glance before turning to leave.

“Goodbye, dad.” He said coldly before turning around and walking away.

-

Lucifer inhaled deeply through his nose as he stepped out the door and closed it behind him – his eyes shutting closed as he took a moment to himself to calm himself. After having the long-winded confrontation with his dad he’d waited eons to have, he desperately needed a reprieve from all that he was feeling. “Sammy.” Lucifer groaned as he heard the familiar voice of his brother. Clearly he wasn’t getting that reprieve anytime soon, and so he reluctantly opened his eyes and look to his right to confront the familiar visage of Michael standing across from him. “Haven’t seen him, but if I do I’ll be sure to let you know. Now if you’d excuse me, I have about a century worth of alcohol to consume.” He quipped as he turned to walk away and go find Chloe. “Brother, please.” He heard Michael’s pleading voice say, and he sighed and turned to look over at him against his better judgement.

“What do you want, Michael?” He asked impatiently as he stared at his distorted reflection with equal amounts irritation and exasperation. “To apologize. I..” Michael began, and Lucifer braced himself for whatever long-winded speech he had planned when Michael suddenly trailed off and stared at him weirdly. Suddenly his twin brother got a bit too close for comfort and reached out to touch his face, and so he quickly flinched back away from him. “What are you doing?” He hissed back at him angrily, and he almost felt guilty for the deflated look that his brother adopted on his face. “Your eyes they’re.. The glow’s gone.” He explained softly, clearly expecting backlash as if he wasn’t already aware of it. His brother reached out to touch him again and he quickly swatted his hand away before he could.

“I know that, you twit. Don’t touch me.” He said annoyed, and Michael sighed as he pulled back a bit to look at him. “What happened, brother?” Michael asked curiously, his voice apologetic. “Hell happened.” He snapped back, and realization seemed to dawn over his twin as Michael nodded slowly in response. Too be honest, Lucifer was surprised Michael hadn’t already known. He figured their dad would’ve told him a long time ago. His eyes used to be blue just like Michael’s, but that was before his fall. Before he lost his Lightbringer powers.

Now his eyes contained nothing but darkness.

“I’m sorry. For everything.” Michael began, but Lucifer sighed before quickly cutting him off. “Yes, there’s a lot of that going around. Save your apology, Michael. I don’t want it. I don’t want anything to do with any of this. If I stay here one second longer I’m going to lose it, so if you could just point me in the direction Chloe went then I’ll be on my way and out of your hair.” He rushed out impatiently, his growing irritation making him frantic as he desperately wanted to leave. “She’s waiting for you by the gates.” Michael said quietly after a moment of silence, and immediately he turned around and unfurled his wings. “Thank you. Goodbye, brother.” He said, a hint of venom seeping into his voice as he put a mocking spin on the word ‘brother’ and took off towards the Pearly Gates.

It wasn’t long at all until he spotted Chloe standing by the gates of Heaven and he slowly began to descend down to meet her until his feet touched solid ‘ground’. Not even two seconds after arriving he was already being sent a wide assortment of looks he didn’t care for as angels practically began to swarm the area to witness his departure. _‘No doubt eager to see me leave.’ _He thought bitterly to himself as he felt the all too familiar feeling of anger brewing inside him until his eyes found Chloe’s and the reassuring smile she had on her face and all of it receded back where it came from. She always did know how to calm him, and she didn’t even know she was doing it. He took a deep breath to curb the remaining feelings of anger before walking over to her, the two of them standing in front of the closed gates.

As he stood there staring outwards, a part of him almost didn’t want to leave. Something inside him tugged at him, a sensation he’d come to know over the years as anxiety. Or was it fear? It was hard for him to tell the two apart. It wasn’t exactly a common occurrence for him to experience them, yet when it did surface it usually was enough to have him reeling back from the force of it. In that moment he almost missed the days when emotions were practically a foreign concept to him when he felt something tug at his sleeve and he looked over at Chloe who had her hand outstretched towards him with a comforting smile and a look of understanding on her face as she gestured for him to hold her hand. The emotions that flooded him in that instant filled him with such warmth and joy that he couldn’t help but smile back at her.

On second thought, he didn’t miss those days at all.

Reaching out for her hand he intertwined their fingers together and immediately felt a surge of confidence run through him. So long as he had her by his side, there was nothing he couldn’t do. They continued to stare into one another’s eyes until they heard the creaking sound of the gates and they both turned to look forward as the gates opened wide to make way for them, and again he felt another pang of anxiety rush through him that was quickly quelled by Chloe’s squeeze of his hand, and he turned to look at her again – their eyes exchanging a silent conversation until they again turned to look outwards. His gaze briefly landed on Gabriel standing off to the side, and as their eyes met they both shared a knowing nod. He took one last look at Chloe before peering out the gates.

“Let’s go home.” He muttered quietly before walking out hand-in-hand with Chloe and not looking back.

-

“Do you think Trixie would be okay without me?”

He looked to his right at the sound of Chloe’s voice, his brow quirking upwards in a question as the two of them stood at the precipice of Heaven’s domain. “As much as I’d love to recreate a weird alternative debut of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ with the two of us, I think it’s about time I return you to your body, don’t you think?” He quipped, earning an exaggerated eyeroll from Chloe that brought a smile to his face. He really missed seeing those. “I just mean that.. When I first.. died. Wow, that feels weird to say.. When I thought I wouldn’t be going back, I just kept thinking about Trixie. I kept asking myself if I’d done enough for her, whether she’d be okay.. I couldn’t help but think I’d messed up her life for good all because of a stupid mistake I made.” Chloe said sadly, her eyes beginning to tear up and he immediately turned his body to face her and grabbed her by either side of her shoulders.

“Chloe, listen to me. Your father died when you were relatively young and look how you turned out. You are the strongest, most independent woman I know. You’re smart, you’re independent, you’re selfless, you’re loving, you’re compassionate – the list goes on. You get what I mean, synonyms, basically.” He began, the end of his speech earning a choked giggle from Chloe before he continued. “The point is, Detective -- If you managed to impart so much as one of those traits onto the little urchin, then I can say with absolute certainty that she’ll grow up to become a fierce young woman. A staunch reflection of her mother.” He’d barely finished speaking when Chloe launched herself at him and engulfed him in her arms, and he quickly returned the hug with one of his own.

“Thank you.” He heard her whisper into his shoulder, and he responded only by hugging her tighter and cradling her head against him in complete silence. Once she finally pulled back he brushed a few stray tears from her cheeks before giving her a comforting smile. “Come on. Let’s get you back to your daughter.” He said simply with Chloe nodding in agreement. Pulling her close, he unfurled his wings and departed from Heaven’s domain with a single flap of his wings.

-

He almost didn’t recognize the figure bunched over by Chloe’s bedside sleeping soundly when he appeared inside the hospital room. The little urchin wasn’t all that little anymore, instead in her place was a teenage woman half-way through to adulthood. He wasn’t sure how long a time had passed on Earth, but he really needed to find a calendar of some sorts. He could see the red-rimmed circles under Beatrice’s shut eyes. She’d obviously been crying, poor child. He considered announcing himself for a split second but eventually thought better of it – instead opting to silently stalk over to Chloe’s bedside and press a flat palm against her chest to deposit her soul back into her body. His hand glowed a brilliant yellow hue for a brief moment until it finally subsided, and he pulled back to submerge himself in the shadows in the corner of the room.

He watched for a few seconds until he saw Chloe’s eyes slowly flutter open, silently observing as her head tilted to the side to look at where her daughter’s head was resting on the bed before reaching out and running her hand through Trixie’s hair. Slowly, she came to, her head perking up to look sleepily over at her mother through her half-lidded gaze. “..Mom?” He heard Trixie mutter out in a croaked voice, Chloe nodding slowly as he smiled over at her. “Hey, Monkey.” Chloe whispered weakly back, and Trixie’s eyes suddenly flew wide open and she launched herself into the bed and hugged Chloe as if hanging on for dear life. “Mommy!”

He watched by the sidelines as the heartwarming reunion took place, Trixie firing off questions faster than a sub-machine gun about things like the afterlife, how she felt, and other topics that flew by faster than he could process. He stifled a chuckle at the event unfolding before him. _‘Some things never change.’ _He thought fondly to himself as he continued to watch until Chloe was eventually overcome with exhaustion and asked to sleep for a bit. He didn’t blame her. She’d been through quite the ordeal. After Chloe drifted off again into a nap, he finally turned to leave when he heard Trixie’s voice say something that froze him where he stood. “Thanks, Lucifer.” He quickly spun around, half-expecting to see her somehow staring back at him but instead finding her with her hands clasped in a prayer and her head tilted back up at the ceiling with her eyes closed.

He couldn’t help but smile warmly at the scene before turning back and unfurling his wings where he couldn’t be seen. _‘You’re welcome, child.’ _He thought to himself before disappearing with a flap of his wings.

-

He slowly descended from the night sky and onto the balcony of his penthouse before withdrawing his wings back into his body. He’d meant to go visit Maze, but one look at himself and he knew that a change of clothes was in order. His suit was in tatters from his journey to Heaven, and if there was one thing he prided himself on it was his sense of fashion. Besides, now that he was back on Earth he couldn’t be drawing unwanted attention to himself. He looked around curiously as he walked inside. He hadn’t been back here in years, but he was glad to see that nothing had really changed. Everything was where he’d left it. He’d half-expected to see things either missing or at least covered in white sheets, but he was happy to see that wasn’t the case. He was about to stride on over to his wardrobe to change into a fresh suit when he heard footsteps off to the side and he looked over to see Maze emerging from the bedroom.

The moment she looked up and saw him she became as still as a statue, coming to a complete halt where she stood as her eyes became utterly fixed on him. “Ah, Maze. Fancy seeing you here. You’re just the person I wanted to talk to, actually. Just let me change into something more presentable and I’ll be with you in a moment.” He said casually as he made to walk past his favorite demon only for her to step into his path and stare at him with a look of barely suppressed anger. “Do you mind? I’m dying to put on some new clothes.” He huffed out impatiently, only afterwards realizing that was the wrong thing to say as the glare she was giving him intensified and she suddenly lashed out and struck him in the left arm with her balled-up fist. “Ow, what was that for?!” He asked bewildered as he rubbed at the sore spot where she’d just hit him, but instead of answering she followed up with another punch to his right shoulder which made him stumble back a step.

“Seriously, what the hell?” He asked again, this time more forcefully, and for a moment he thought she was going to hit him again as she walked forward and shoved him back another couple of steps. “You left me!” She shouted angrily, and he blinked twice in confusion as he worked his brain around what she was talking about until it finally dawned over him and he narrowed his gaze onto her incredulously. “That’s what this little temper tantrum is about? You’re mad because I didn’t tell you I was leaving? I’m sorry, I guess I was just too absorbed with saving the world to ask for my demon’s permission slip.” He quipped irritably, but Maze was never one to be cowed so easily as she immediately went to punch him again, this time in the head, but he’d had just about enough. Faster than even she could react, he quickly intercepted her blow and twisted her around before shoving her forcefully face-first into the nearest wall while his thumb put pressure on the joint in her wrist.

“Enough, _Mazikeen_.” He growled angrily, only for her to wind her head backwards in an attempt to headbutt him, but he wasn’t having any of it and easily reared out of the way before putting more pressure on the joint and pinning her harder against the wall. “Maze, as much as I love letting you vent your frustrations on me, I just got back from a century of misery in Hell and a most painful family reunion in Heaven, so if you wouldn’t mind keeping your abandonment issues to yourself for a moment, that would be lovely.” He seethed out, and he felt her suddenly freeze in his grip. “What? You went to Heaven?” She asked in shock, her previous anger seemingly forgotten in the midst of her surprise, and he finally let her go and backed away from her, deeming it safe to do so. “Yes, I did, and I’ll tell you all about it if you’ll just let me get bloody changed.” He confirmed irritably before walking over to his bedroom and towards his wardrobe, leaving behind a slack-jawed Maze in the living room.

-

He strolled back down the steps and into the living room as he pulled at the sleeves of his shirt under his jacket and adjusted his cufflinks, his gaze shifting upwards after deeming himself presentable enough and drifting over towards the seated figure on his couch. Maze immediately perked up as he walked on over to the bar and poured himself a drink before tilting the glass backwards and gulping down a sizable sip, allowing himself to savor the flavor he’d oh so missed. “So? Are you going to tell me what happened?” He heard Maze say impatiently, and he looked over his shoulder to see her standing with her arms crossed just a few steps away from him. “Only if you say please.” He said in jest, the quip earning him nothing but a death glare. “_Lucifer._” She growled out irritably, and he sighed as he lifted one hand up in surrender.

“Fine, fine.” He breathed out exasperatedly before launching into an explanation of everything that had transpired in Heaven while thoroughly enjoying the ever-increasing incredulous look on Maze’s face as he spoke. “So, to sum up; Amenadiel popped on down to Hell and told me what happened with Chloe and that she’d died, so I flew on up there, had a little scuffle with my siblings before my father came out and fetched me for a lovely little heart-to-heart talk. After resisting the incredible urge to kill him, I grabbed Chloe’s soul and flew it back to her body and then I came here to put on some fresh clothing so I could go look for you, but then you happened to already be here, and so here we are.” He finished, his brow quirking upwards as something occurred to him. “Why are you here, anyway?” He inquired curiously, and Maze quickly shook the dumbfounded look off her face and cleared her throat before responding.

“I came to get my knives. I finally tracked down Chloe’s ‘partner’ and I was on my way to get him when I got a text message saying Chloe had just woke up, so I was going to head over there instead.” She explained, and he nodded slowly in acknowledgement of her words. “Besides, I sort of, you know, live here. You left this place to me in your will, remember?” He nodded slowly at that until the reminder made him realize something. “What about Chloe? Did she get the money and everything else I left her?” He questioned with Maze shaking her head in reply. “She refused. Said she didn’t want any of your things because that’d be like admitting you weren’t coming back.” Maze answered almost remorsefully, yet the admission filled him with warmth and put a smile on his face. Chloe truly was an angel in every way but physical.

“I see you didn’t have that problem, though.” He said pointedly as he looked around them, only now noticing some of the additions she’d made to the apartment – the hidden assortment of knives scattered around being some of the more subtle changes with the sex swing in the corner being one of the more noticeable. Funny, he’d thought that was his at first glance. “Please, as if I was going to let an opportunity like this pass by.” She scoffed amusedly, yet he could see the guilt in her eyes she was trying so desperately to hide. She may not want to admit it, but she cared more than she let on. Something he was noticing more and more every time he saw her. The years on Earth had been good to her. “I admire your opportunistic nature, as always, Maze.” He quipped, his jest this time earning a half-smile from his ex-bodyguard demon.

“Anyway, it’s funny you should mention Chloe’s partner – I was actually going to ask you to find him for me, but seeing as you know where he is, how about we go get ourselves a little payback for old times’ sake, hm?” He offered with a predatory grin that Maze promptly replicated with one of her own. “You drive, I’ll lead.” She countered, and he quickly nodded his agreement, and immediately they were stepping into the elevator and pressing the button to take them downstairs.

_‘Nothing like a little manhunt to bring you and your demon closer together.’ _He thought amusedly to himself as the ding of the elevator closing sounded off.

-

He’d missed driving. The rev of the engine, the wind in his hair – it was soothing, in a way. It didn’t bring him the same solace as flying, but it grounded him, made him feel like he was just another person trying to make it in L.A. instead of the literal Devil. Sometimes he needed that, other times he didn’t. This was definitely one of the times he did need it. After another century of ruling Hell, the simplicity of being just another civilian amongst millions was something he desperately needed. At least until he arrived at his destination, then he was just fine with assuming his role and punishing the man responsible for Chloe’s impromptu death. And boy, the things he had in mind for him, he was already seething anger at the thought of it. He was getting increasingly impatient just thinking about it, but luckily he didn’t have to wait much longer as he made a left turn at an intersection and spotted the place Maze had described to him.

He pulled up along the sidewalk across the street and killed the engine before taking a closer look at the man’s current residence. It was a sleazy little motel, the kind you’d only stay at if you were broke, desperate, or in hiding. It had a U-type structure, two stories with stairs and walkways on the outside, and white greasy walls that clearly hadn’t been repainted since it’s construction. He’d be surprised if the place even had security cameras, and at first glance it didn’t seem like they did. “Do we know which room he’s in?” He asked, his gaze utterly fixed on the motel as he observed the very few comings and goings of some questionable looking individuals. “Second floor, room two-oh-seven.” She responded in an instant, and he gave an easy nod in response as he reached over to open the door. “Let’s go say hello, shall we?” He said menacingly as he stepped out of the car and locked it before walking on over the street with Maze not far behind.

He quickly made his way up the outside staircase and walked along until he stood outside the room they were looking for, giving Maze a curt nod before rattling his knuckles against the door. “Who is it?” He heard a muffled voice say from the inside, banishing any doubt as to whether he was there. “Room service!” He replied with ease, hearing low mumbling in return that he managed to decipher thanks to his angel hearing. “I didn’t know they had room service here..” The man said with obvious confusion in his voice, and Lucifer heard footsteps approaching until they stopped just outside the door. He heard the sound of the keyhole opening and he gave a little wave before driving his foot into the door and busting it wide open, immediately sending the man on the other side flying back onto the floor.

Casually as ever he stepped on inside and held the door open for Maze before closing the door after she walked in. Immediately as he turned around Maze was on the man as he tried to get up, grabbing the man and twirling around behind him to restrain him before thrusting her foot out to kick a handgun on the floor out of his reach which Lucifer assumed he’d dropped from the impact from the door. Faster than the man could react Maze had a knife held against his throat. “Scream and you die.” She hissed threateningly as Lucifer slowly bent down and picked up the pistol, adjusting his grip as he weighed it in his hand before slowly disassembling it as he spoke. “So, you must be Lucas Gray.” He pondered out loud with a deceiving calmness to his voice as he put the dismantled parts of the gun onto a nearby desk and turned to face his target.

He swept his gaze up and down the man’s form as he studied his prey and took in his features. The man was relatively tall, about six foot by his estimate, and he had a pretty bulky build. Short blond hair decorated his head, and he had gray eyes (which he couldn’t help but think was ironic considering his last name), and a clean-shaved face with a square jaw. Overall, he looked like the typical asshole who used to bully people in high school, so he’ll probably be doing those people a favor as well. “W-Who are you? W-What do you want?” Lucas stuttered out as he trembled violently in Maze’s grip. “Just think of me as the physical manifestation of karma, and I’m here to give you your due.” Lucifer responded calmly as barely suppressed rage bubbled beneath the surface. “W-What? I didn’t do anything!” The man said in a panic a tad too loudly as Maze pressed the knife closer into his neck enough to draw a bit of blood.

“Quite right, Lucas. You did **nothing.**” Lucifer growled out as he stepped closer to his prey, his eyes promising a world of hurt as he stared at the coward with a death glare. “You did nothing as your partner, the person whose back you’re supposed to have, was shot in the middle of the street and then you **fled.**” The man’s eyes widened in fear, his squirming only intensifying until Maze cut deeper into his neck, stilling him completely. “T-This is about Chloe?” Lucas asked, receiving no answer other than another death stare which caused the man’s Adam’s apple to bob up and down as he gulped. “Look, I-I panicked, okay? I thought she died!” Lucifer snarled as he walked over and grabbed the man by his collar, his eyes boring into his as he just barely stopped himself from ripping off his head. “She **did**. But perhaps she wouldn’t have if you’d gotten her the help she needed.” Lucifer spit out, every breath and word that escaped the man’s mouth only serving to bring him unimaginable rage.

“We were being shot at! I didn’t know what to do! But everything’s okay now, right? I heard she made a full recovery.” Lucas said in a futile attempt to calm him, and Lucifer could feel his restraint melting away as he suddenly felt his old power fill him again and he knew what he needed to do. “She did,” Lucifer confirmed as he let go off the man’s collar, “But you won’t.” He finished, his eyes flashing as he thrust his hands up and grabbed either side of the man’s head before pressing his thumbs into the man’s forehead and using his power to send searing pain throughout the man’s entire nervous system that made him scream out in bloody agony before his eyes rolled back and he went slack in Maze’s grasp. His eyes ceased to glow as he stared at the useless sack of meat in front of him, only barely noticing Maze looking over the man’s shoulder to look at his face before dropping him and letting him crumble to the floor.

“What did you do?” She asked curiously as she poked the unmoving body on the ground with her foot. “I overloaded his nervous system until it was fried and put him in a coma like the one Chloe was in, with the added addition of him being aware of everything that’s happening around him.” He explained before crouching down in front of Lucas’ limp form and staring at his vacant face. “Do you hear that, Lucas? You’re going to be in a coma for the rest of your life, unable to move, unable to speak, until your brain turns to _mush_. And when that finally happens, I’ll pick up right where I left off and torture you in Hell for all **eternity.**” He seethed out, his eyes beginning to glow again when he suddenly heard a gasp from Maze, and he looked up to see her staring at him in shock.

“Maze?” He uttered curiously, and he saw her visibly swallow down _fear_. She was afraid. Of what? He got his answer as she meekly muttered out a few words. “Lucifer, your eyes.” He squinted in confusion, growing even more perplexed before he stood up and looked into a nearby mirror and saw what was wrong. His eyes were glowing, but they weren’t red.

They were white.

They were the eyes of the Lightbringer, not the Devil. “Bloody hell.” Lucifer groaned out, annoyed at the sudden appearance of his divine eyes. He didn’t mind hitching his old powers when he needed to, but when it meant the return of something he wasn’t anymore, he wanted nothing to do with it. “I need to go.” He growled out as he stormed towards the door. “Wait, what about him?” She called out after him as he quickly flung the door open and waved his hand dismissively over his shoulder. “I don’t know, throw him under a bus or something! Give him a reason to be in a coma, just make sure he doesn’t die.” He blurted out in a hurry as he walked out and unfurled his wings before quickly taking flight and escaping.

-

He downed another glass of whiskey as he sat by the bar at his penthouse. He must’ve been on his twentieth glass by now, and he was still barely buzzed. ‘_Goddamn celestial metabolism.’ _He thought irritably to himself when he heard the ding of the elevator and the sound of the doors sliding open, and he looked over to see Maze stepping out with her arms crossed almost protectively. “Lucifer? I took care of that thing.” She said cautiously as she stepped closer to him. “They won’t go away.” He said angrily as he looked at his reflection at the bottom of his empty glass, glowing white eyes staring back at him. “Why won’t they go away?” He choked out, his voice cracking. This wasn’t who he was. He wanted to blame his dad, but he knew it wasn’t God’s fault. It was his, but he didn’t know how or why. He just wanted them gone. He didn’t want them.

“I don’t know.” Maze admitted quietly, and he sighed as he buried his face in his hands. “Look, Lucifer, it doesn’t matter.” He looked up at that and glared at her, and he saw her visibly cower as he focused his eyes on her. “Doesn’t **matter?**” He seethed angrily, half-expecting her to flee right then and there, but instead he watched her take a deep breath and shake her head. “No, it doesn’t. White eyes, red eyes, brown eyes – it doesn’t matter. You’re still you. You’re still Lucifer. Your powers don’t determine what you are, just like your wings don’t. Only you decide.” She explained, and he felt his rage slowly melt away. “When did you get so wise, Maze?” He asked only half-jokingly, earning an amused huff from her in response. “I guess I’ve just been spending too much time with Linda.” She retorted, and it was his turn to let out an amused huff. “Yes, she is wise beyond her years.” He agreed, causing Maze to nod as he took a deep breath to calm himself.

He drummed his fingers lazily against the countertop when something suddenly occurred to him and he slowly got up from his stool, placing his glass on the bar as he walked closer to her. “I want to thank you, Maze.” He began, the statement earning a confused look and a quirked brow from her. “When I was in Hell, I had a lot of time to think and reflect on my decisions over the years, and I realized something important.” He continued as he came to a stop right in front of her, establishing eye contact to convey his sincerity. “While I was down there, I realized the one person I wanted by my side was you, and with that realization came another – just how much I took you for granted.” Maze suddenly averted her eyes from him, and he could see her arms curl more protectively around her as if trying to shield herself from his words.

“You know that human expression; ‘You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone’?” He asked rhetorically, not waiting for an answer as he proceeded with his speech. “Well, the saying has some truth to it. After having spent many millennia with you, I forgot just how much you meant to me. I used you, and I neglected you – and for that, I’m truly sorry. I promise never to do that again.” He finished, and she finally looked back up at him although still refusing to look him in the eye. “So, to prove to you that my words aren’t just empty promises, I’ve decided to give you a gift. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it later with how unreliable my powers are at the moment, so I think it’s best I give it to you now.” Maze stared at him in confusion, his words clearly having secured her curiosity as he held his hands out sideways just a few inches from each other and focused his power into the palms of his hands.

His hands began to glow with divine light, and he suddenly saw Maze tense in the peripheral of his vision. “Woah, you’re not going to smite me, are you?” She questioned with uncertainty, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. The words were enough to pull his focus away from what he’d been doing as he looked up and squinted at her. “What? Of course not. Look, do you trust me?” He asked as they stared into one another’s eyes until finally she gave a slight nod and he looked back down at his hands and continued to experiment with the light. His hand slowly molded the ethereal glow in his hands into a ball of sorts before he closed his eyes and exerted more of his power into it – and even with his eyes closed, the light that emitted from his hands was almost blinding. Finally he opened his eyes and palmed the divine light in one hand before reaching out and pressing it against Maze’s chest.

Maze let out a sudden gasp of air as the light slowly disappeared into her body until dissipating altogether, and she took a panicked step back clutching at her chest. “What was that? What did you do?” She asked hurriedly, her eyes staring at where the light had gone, and he quickly spoke up, worried she might start carving her own chest open if he didn’t. “That, was a soul.” He stated simply, and he saw her freeze and her head slowly pan up as she stared at him in shock. “Well, a demon soul, to be precise. I’ve never actually made one, but seeing as it didn’t explode, I’d say it probably worked.” Maze was stunned into silence, her eyes never leaving him as she stared at him with her mouth slightly agape. “Obviously, you’ll never be allowed in Heaven, but at least you’ll always be welcome back home.” He finished explaining, and then there was complete silence as they both stared at one another.

He eyed her with interest, curious to her reaction when he suddenly noticed her eyes begin to well up with tears. That wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. Had he done something wrong? Did the soul break something? “Are you alright?” He asked worriedly as he reached out and put a comforting hand on her shoulder as a pit of anxiety began to reside in his stomach, but his attention was pulled away from it as she suddenly punched him in the shoulder. “Ow, seriously? I’m trying to do something nice he-..” He began to say but didn’t get the chance to finish as she suddenly threw herself at him and wrapped him in her arms, cutting him off from what he was going to say.

He hesitantly wrapped his arms around her in return, half-expecting her to pull away and slap him, but it never came, and so he tightened his grip around her and hugged her properly. “Thank you.” He heard her whisper almost inaudibly into his shoulder, and he was filled with sudden warmth at the sincerity in her muffled voice. They stood there like that for twenty seconds before she pulled back and swiped at her face with the back of her hand. “I umm.. “ She began before clearing her throat and sniffing. “I uh, I should go. See Chloe, I mean.” She clarified, and he nodded once in understanding as she slowly backed up towards the elevator. “Of course. Tell her I’ll be there to visit her tomorrow.” He said, and Maze simply nodded before scuttering into the elevator and he watched her until the doors slid closed, at which point he practically stumbled as he sat back by the bar.

He felt about ready to fold over and fall unconscious. He’d almost forgotten about how tired he was in the heat of everything that had been happening. Now that things were beginning to slow, his weariness was beginning to shine through to the point that when he saw the absence of his white glowing eyes in the nearby mirror he was beyond the point of caring. On any other day he might’ve pondered the significance of its disappearance, but at this point he felt utterly exhausted. Not just in his body, but in his mind as well. After all the physical and mental ordeals he’d been through today, it was a wonder it had only started catching up with him now. He decided on having himself one last drink before he called it a day, but as he poured some whiskey into an empty glass he heard the familiar sound of wings and sensed the celestial presence pop up on the balcony to his penthouse behind him. “Not a good time, Amenadiel, leave me be.” He groaned irritably. “Hey, Sammy.” He heard a voice say behind him, only it wasn’t Amenadiel’s voice, and he turned around wishing that it wasn’t who he knew it was.

“Michael, what are you doing here?” He muttered out exasperatedly, too tired to get angry at this point. “I’m here to see you.” Michael answered simply as he pulled his wings back into his body and walked over to the middle of the living room. “Couldn’t this have waited another day at least?” He wondered to himself out loud as he poured a bit extra into his glass than usual. He was going to need it to get through this. “Sorry, but time is of the essence.” Michael replied, and Lucifer rolled his eyes as he twisted around on the stool to face his twin. “Then how about you pop on down to Hell, you’ll have all the _time _you could need.” He seethed out, his frustration getting the best of him, yet Michael simply shook his head as he stepped closer. “Won’t make a difference.” Michael replied cryptically, and Lucifer had half a mind to smother him in that moment.

“Get to the point or get out.” He said impatiently as he twisted back around to face the bar and had a sip of his drink, the sound of footsteps echoing through the room as Michael walked over and sat himself down next to him. To Lucifer’s surprise, Michael suddenly reached over and snatched up a bottle of whiskey and a clean glass and began to pour himself a drink before taking a large gulp, a grimace spreading over his face as he did so. “You drink this crap?” Michael questioned, and Lucifer barely stopped himself from chuckling from his brother’s uncharacteristic attitude. “No, I just keep it for decorative purposes.” He quipped as he had another sip of his drink, letting out a raspy grunt as it burned his throat on the way down. “Well it certainly isn’t like they make it in Heaven.” Michael replied, and Lucifer let out an amused puff of air through his nose as he looked over at his twin.

“That’s because it was made in **Heaven**, brother. It was literally created by a cosmic power to be perfect.” He responded in an almost patronizing manner, to which his brother simply chuckled. “You have a point there.” Michael conceded as he had another sip, this time only with a slight wince scrunching up his features instead of a grimace. “Of course I do. Now, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here, or do I need to go tell on you?” He jested before moving to have another sip of his drink, and for a moment he saw a smile appear on his brother’s face until it was suddenly replaced with one of longing as he looked over at him. “I’ve missed you, brother.” Michael said, and Lucifer nearly choked on his drink, just barely managing to force it down his throat before he turned to look at his twin. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I must’ve misheard. I thought I heard you say that you missed me.” Lucifer said incredulously as he grabbed a nearby napkin to wipe his mouth with.

“Is it so hard to believe that I miss my brother?” Michael asked, and Lucifer shot him a look as if to say he’s an idiot. “It is when you cast said brother out of Heaven and left him to rot in Hell before proceeding to give him the longest cold shoulder in the history of the universe.” He replied accusingly as he stared daggers at his brother, fully expecting him to rise to the challenge and defend himself, yet Michael simply sighed and nodded in agreement. “You’re right.” His twin confessed, much to Lucifer’s surprise. “I abandoned you. But brother, you have to understand why--..” And there was the catch. “Oh, I _understand_.” He spit out, interrupting him as he felt his anger flare at his attempt to justify himself. “You didn’t want to disappoint Dear Old Dad, even if it meant abandoning your brother to eons of torture and misery.” He began as he abruptly got up from his stool and stared down his brother.

“You always were such a suck up. Saint Michael the Archangel, mirror reflection of the ‘Lord Almighty’ and Hand of God. Won’t let Him so much as take a shit unless you’re there to wipe it for Him. He could piss on you from above and you’d welcome it as fucking rain.” He spewed out venomously. “Let me tell you something _brother_, no matter how hard you try, no matter how much of yourself you give Him, you will never be more than just a pale shadow of the one you’re trying so hard to please. Look at you, you don’t possess an identity or personality of your own and so you sap it off of God like a pathetic leech, desperately hoping to squeeze out anything worthwhile so you can convince yourself that you yourself have worth beyond that of a meager servant lapping up God’s scraps. Well let me save you some time, Michael – you don’t. So how about you go run on back to Dad like a good little dog, and maybe He’ll give you a treat.”

By the time he’d finished his outburst his muscles were immensely tense, his system primed to react to any attempt at an attack in less than a moment’s notice, but it never came. Instead Michael stared at him silently all the way through, his expression unreadable until Lucifer finally finished hurling insults at him, at which point Michael swallowed down whatever he might have been feeling and turned back to his drink, much to Lucifer’s annoyance. “Go on, say something! Do something!” He shouted, urging his twin to react, yet Michael simply shook his head and downed the rest of his drink before speaking. “No. You forget; I know you, brother. Whenever you feel threatened or overwhelmed you lash out at those around you to drive them away.” Michael began, yet was cut off by a scoff. “Yes, thank you for the psychological assessment, brother, but I’m afraid I already have a therapist.” Lucifer interrupted, yet Michael carried on undeterred.

“But I won’t let you do the same with me.” Michael said with conviction in his voice as he slowly got up from his seat and turned to face him before staring him dead in the eye. “You’re my brother, Sam. No matter what name you go by or what face you wear.” Michael said earnestly, and Lucifer simply stared at him in surprise, taken back by his reaction. He’d forgotten just how well his brother knew him. Contrary to popular belief, they’d never hated each other. Sure, they’d fought now and then, but what family didn't? Especially theirs. The truth was, he used to be closer to Michael than any of his other brothers. His mom used to say they were like two peas in a pod – brothers in arms. But that was then, and this was now. He shook himself out of his momentary indecision and scoffed before turning away and walking around to the other side of the bar to pour himself another drink.

“Brothers don’t abandon one another the way you did.” He huffed out as he raised the glass to his lips and stared down the bottom of it as he took a hefty gulp, savoring the smooth taste as the amber liquid flowed down his throat. “I made a mistake.” He heard Michael say and he chanced a look up at him, giving him the chance to speak despite his better judgement. “I felt lost, like nothing I did held meaning, and all I wanted was to know that it did. You weren’t the only one who wanted recognition from father. You wanted free will, I only ever wanted to be your equal.” Lucifer blinked twice in bewilderment, stunned by his brothers surprising admission as he looked at him with a sudden curiosity, as if he were seeing him in a whole new light.

Michael was never one to show himself vulnerable -- they were the same in that regard, so for him to open up to him about something like that was.. Daunting, to say the least. “You were father’s favorite. The only one to ever receive his praise. No matter what I did, he never paid me so much as a second thought.” Michael continued, and Lucifer was jolted out of his trance as he sucked air into his lungs to try and stem the sudden flood of emotions rising in his stomach. “The one saving grace I had among all of it was you. You kept me grounded. But once father started isolating himself with the project of Humanity, you did the same. Whenever I asked to speak with you, you’d say ‘not now’, and so I fell back into old habits. Started trying to earn Father’s approval again – doing anything and everything he told me to do. And then came the day of the rebellion, and I felt..”

Michael sighed as he trailed off and averted his gaze, hitching his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I don’t know what I felt. Anger that you’d declare war on us? Disappointment that you felt you couldn’t come to me for help? Sadness when I realized what the end result would inevitably be? Maybe all those things. Either way, it didn’t matter. You’d made your choice, and mine had already been made for me, so I did what was required of me. Just as I always have.” As Michael spoke, Lucifer was reminded of that day. He remembered it all too well. Fighting his way through his brother’s and sisters, carving a path to God’s throne room to face the collective might of his Archangel brethren and God himself. It made him wonder why Gabriel didn’t seem to hate him. After all, he’d nearly killed him and Raphael that day by accident in his rage, something he’d never forgive himself for.

He still had nightmares about that day even now, and they always ended the same way – with him falling. He resisted the urge to shake his head as he forced his mind back into the present, his attention refocused on his brother who had the same look on his face that he did. It seems he wasn’t the only one haunted by memories of his rebellion. “I suppose none of it matters now.” Michael said as he turned back to the bar and by extension Lucifer and topped off his drink. “It’s done.” His twin concluded with a morose sigh before lifting the glass to his lips to pour the amber liquid down his throat, accentuated by another minor wince of his far too similar features. “Years later, I finally got the recognition I wanted. But in the end it just felt.. Empty. Hollow, even. At first I thought that I just hadn’t done enough, that I needed to do more.. But then I saw you.”

Michael said, perking up to look at him with an uncomfortable intensity that made Lucifer want to flee from the emotions it brought out in him. “And I realized that I was wrong. Finally, I knew that any success I have – it’s meaningless if it comes at the cost of my brother.” There was a pause as they simply stared at one another, their eyes searching their twin’s similar counterparts until finally Michael spoke up once more. “I’m not saying you were right to rebel, but I was most definitely wrong in the part I took in casting you out. Can you forgive me?” Now that was a loaded question if Lucifer had ever heard one. Not knowing what else to do, he channeled his inner Linda as he looked within himself in search for forgiveness – but came up empty. How was he alone supposed to forgive someone for an act of slight perpetrated against him thousands of years ago?

He couldn’t. But.. “I want to.” Lucifer admitted, and he saw the gleam of hope in his brother’s blue eyes as he straightened up somewhat. “But you can’t.” His brother finished for him, yet it wasn’t accusatory – more of a statement of fact, and he slowly nodded to confirm his suspicion. “Not yet. Someday, perhaps. But not now. Not today.” Lucifer finished, and he was relieved not to see even a flash of hurt in his brother’s face as he simply nodded in acknowledgement of his words. “It will take time. I understand. And if things were different, I’d be more than happy to give it to you, but brother I’m afraid time is something we may not have in abundance for much longer.” Michael replied, and Lucifer couldn’t help the furrow of his brow at the obscure words being spoken as his curiosity got the better of him.

“I’m guessing this has something to do with the mysterious threat Dad spoke of?” He concluded naturally, and he was met with a nod in response, much to his annoyance. “Look, I already told him I’m not joining him for his little Devil-God buddy cop film, so if that’s why you’re here you might as well save us both a lot of time and spare me the movie pitch.” He said exasperatedly as he brought his criminally neglected drink to his lips and took another sip while exhaling out through his nose.

“He’s dying, brother.”

Lucifer nearly choked on his drink at those words, his hand balling up into a fist to hammer solidly into his chest a couple times to force the liquid down before he set his glass onto the bar and stared at his twin incredulously. “What?” He uttered out between gasps of breath, barely managing to get out the one word amidst his coughing. “Father is dying.” Michael repeated, and Lucifer quickly took a moment to recover from his coughing fit so that his brain could have enough oxygen to process what he’d just been told. When his lungs finally decided to cooperate, he looked over at his brother through bleary eyes, searching for any hint of deceit on his face until his mouth drooped open slightly when there was none to be found.

Michael, likely sensing that Lucifer had no intention to speak, continued. “He won’t admit it, but I know he is. He’s getting worse every day – you’ve seen how he is. Whatever it is he needs help with, it’s killing him. He won’t say what it is, only that you’re the only one that can help him.” If there was ever a time to be absolutely gobsmacked it was right then. God was dying. As in, actually dying. He’d felt that he was weak when he’d met with him, but never in a trillion years would he have expected it to be to this extent. I mean, can you blame him? It’s God. Who would’ve thought that there was anything powerful enough that could actually kill the old man? He was God. Not even he deemed himself capable of the act, no matter what he may tell himself in his anger. Yet here it was, made into reality.

And with that realization came another. If God died, then so would everything else in the universe. Even if one of his Archangel siblings were to take over to stop it from happening, what’s to stop them from being killed by the same thing powerful enough to kill God himself? The end result would be the same, everything in the universe would perish including..

Chloe.

“Oh, for fuck sakes.” Lucifer groaned out, much to Michael’s surprise who simply blinked twice in confusion, clearly not having anticipated his reaction. “The old bastard wins again!” Lucifer exclaimed, his twin only then appearing to come to the same conclusion he had. Of course Lucifer couldn’t let the universe die. Never mind the fact that he wasn’t about to let something smother him out of existence – there was no way he’d let any harm come to Chloe. Or Trixie. Or Maze. Or his siblings. Or.. _‘You get the point.’ _He thought bitterly, silencing his inner dialogue with himself as he let out a deep breath. He was forced to help God, whether he liked it or not, and he did _not _like being forced to do anything – never mind helping his arch enemy.

_‘I swear, we get out of this I might just kill him myself.’ _He thought to himself as he made his way to the balcony and unfurled his wings before taking flight – leaving behind a stunned Michael in his penthouse.

-

Initially, he’d been a bit surprised that he’d been let into Heaven without resistance this time around, yet in retrospect he realized that the manipulative bastard was obviously expecting him to come back and so had ‘green lit’ him, as it were. As he stormed into God’s study and strode over to where he was sitting by the desk he recalled throwing away earlier that very same day, he just barely refrained from punching the miserable old man right then and there as he came to a stop in front of him. “Alright, let’s get one thing straight; I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for Chloe. This doesn’t change a thing between us, and once I’ve finished stopping whatever apocalyptic entity you’ve found yourself in a wrestling match with, I’m leaving and never coming back. Once this is over, you will stay out of my life permanently and cease any and all manipulations over me or those close to me or I swear I will kill you myself. Are we clear?” He shouted out in a burst of anger while staring daggers at his father.

God, who of course wasn’t at all fazed by his outburst, slowly stood up from his seat and stared him dead in the eye before giving him a curt nod in reply. There was no smug expression, no satisfaction to be found on his face – just a solemn acceptance.

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does that count as a cliffhanger? Not sure. I apologize either way. 
> 
> As for the next chapter, I can't say when I'll be able to get it out. For one, the plot points I have for it are very vague, so I'm not sure just how I'll go about making it. In any case, I'll figure it out. 
> 
> Please tell me what you think about the chapter. At times I was worried whether or not it'd be appealing to those reading it, or whether I was moving too fast, or too slow -- so I'd really appreciate it if you'd take the time to tell me what you thought about it all.


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